


Of Warzones and Love Lost

by Fiveby5



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Army, College, F/F, Modern AU, POV Multiple, War, Warzone AU, but not really fluff, clarke and lexa - Freeform, clarke/lexa - Freeform, early 20's AU, mostly light
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:49:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 29,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4243158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiveby5/pseuds/Fiveby5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa and Clarke both have survived wars that have left death in their wake. Stateside, they find each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write a thing without really thinking about the thing. This is the result. If I don't sound very confident about it, it's because I'm not. Like it or hate it, let me know. It's a bit OOC but hopefully it's a decent story anyway.

The engineer was used to seeing Clarke in a moderate state of exhaustion. The girl was in med school after all, and the past two years has not been kind to her. Such was the expectation, that when Clarke walked into the apartment after a nine hour shift, humming softly and head held high, Raven couldn't help but notice.   
  
"You drink coffee or something?" Raven was buried under blankets on the couch, watching some crime show.   
  
"I'm always drinking coffee, Raven," Clarke responded, which was true.   
  
"So what's with the energy?" It was almost as if Clarke was lighter... Brighter, perhaps. If Raven believed in auras, she would call Clarke's vibrant. Raven did believe in physics though, and something was causing Clarke to be physically different, physically.... Up.   
  
"I ran into someone at the hospital today," Clarke said, kicking her shoes off. "Remember that translator I told you about?"   
  
Raven remembered vaguely. "Six language girl?"   
  
"Yeah," Clarke laughed. "She was in again today. Signing some paperwork."   
  
"That's it?" Raven knew Clarke's humor was a bit dry, but there was absolutely nothing funny or particularly cheerful about this situation. "If I knew that's all it took to make you happy I'd show up at the hospital all the time."   
  
"Ha ha," Clarke said dryly. "No, it was just unexpected. And she remembered who I was, which was nice."   
  
"You are a fairly memorable person," Raven said, still trying to get to the bottom of Clarke's sudden lift in mood.   
  
"I guess," Clarke said absently. She was still smiling softly. "We're going to hang out and get drinks on Thursday if you're interested in going."   
  
Raven raised her eyebrows. Drinks? Clarke never went out. "I'll pass," she said, "but thank you." She made a mental note to do some snooping. This translator could be good for Clarke. This all could also go horribly wrong. Raven realized that she was slightly jealous of this girl's ability to make Clarke happy. Raven had stuck with Clarke through all her bad times, quite literally. The past two years had not been easy. And for all her support and love, Clarke had remained... Inscrutable. Was she distraught? No, but she had never been happy either.   
  
"Anyway," Clarke continued, breaking Raven out of her muse. "I'm going to make popcorn. You want half?"

 


	2. Chapter 2

"How was work?" Anya asked her friend as she walked into the gym, pulling her hair back into a careful braid.  
  
"Same old," Lexa said. "Sparring?"  
  
Anya nodded, pulling on her gloves. "Full gear?"  
  
Lexa raised one eyebrow. "Are you kidding?"  
  
"I'm too old for this shit," Anya said, but she complied, wincing inwardly at the future bruises she was bound to have.  
  
"Whatever, coach," Lexa mocked in her monotone. "Now," she clapped her gloves together. "Let me show  
You how it's done." She extended one glove in a fist. Anya met it with her own, and was promptly pummeled with a flurry of strikes.  
  
"Come on," Lexa taunted, jumping back and dancing on the balls of her feet. Before Anya knew it, she was under fire again. She managed to block blows to her chest, but missed a painful uppercut to the gut. And the hook to the side of her head.  
  
"Fuck off," she said, retaliating with a wild swipe that jabbed Lexa in the back. She staggered; Lexa's punch had left her dizzy and winded.  
  
"To the back?" Lexa said, throwing her arms out. She was pure aggression. Pure offense. Anya wasn't intimidated. "Really?"  
  
"Screw you," Anya said, breath still ragged. "What's your problem?"  
  
"What's yours? You hit me in the back."  
  
"You nailed me in the head!" Anya said, exasperated. "Talk about bad sportsmanship--"  
  
"Is it because I'm winning?" Lexa grinned.  
  
Anya was silent. Yes, that was it. She hadn't seen the younger girl so full of fire in years. Not after costia's death...  
  
Lexa had been her best trainee in college. Two sports, even. The girl was an ace in the ring and on the field. Competitively? She was unstoppable. The pair of them were inseparable, quickly becoming best friends. After college, they lost touch for a while. Lexa was traveling with the government as a translator to war-zones. When she returned she was... Damaged. Anya thought it was the horrors of war. In a way it had been, although it wasn't until months later that Anya would learn exactly what had happened. Costia. Costia had happened. And Lexa was never the same. Her punches lacked fire. Maybe Anya had gotten used to that. Apparently, the old Lexa was making a comeback.  
  
"It is because I'm winning!" Lexa said triumphantly. "You're getting your ass handed to you."  
  
"Don't get cocky," Anya warned before jumping into stance again. But she didn't have the heart to beat Lexa. The girl seemed so happy, for the first time in a long time.  
  
Anya wanted to ask her why. What changed? But she knew Lexa would freeze up; her eyes would grow cold and she would have to find a new sparring partner for at least a week. Lexa would have to be the one to bring it up.


	3. Chapter 3

"Talk to me," Abby said to Clarke. They had sat down for a rare mother-daughter lunch. "What's on the up and up?"  
  
"Not that phrase." Clarke sipped her drink to hide her grin.  
  
"Really," Abby insisted. "Tell me about things. How's the hospital?"  
  
"It's fine," Clarke said lightly. "Busy, I'm sure you know. Fall breakers go hard, apparently."  
  
Abby nodded, hoping that her silence would encourage Clarke to speak more. When Clarke did not oblige, Abby had to ask directly. "How are Octavia and Raven?"  
  
Clarke laughed. "Mom, you talk to Raven more than you talk to me. Talk about favorite child..."  
  
"That's hardly my fault, Clarke." Abby knew Clarke had meant the slight as a joke, but she couldn't refrain from her biting words, especially when they did, indeed, get to the root of the problem. "Really, I want to know. How have you been feeling? Are you stressed? Is there a new man in your life?"  
  
Clarke raised one eyebrow. "I've been feeling fine. I'm actually not particularly stressed, believe it or not. I'm finally starting to settle in at the hospital."  
  
"That's wonderful," Abby said.

"And no, mother, there is not a new guy in my life."  
  
Abby frowned in disapproval. It had nearly three years since Finn's death. Mourning was necessary, Abby knew that from experience. But she did not want her daughter to become cold-hearted. Learning to love again is part of the healing process. But clearly Clarke wasn't in the mood. "How's that new friend of yours? The translator?"   
  
For the first time since lunch began, a genuine smile spread across Clarke's face. "She's great, actually. She's been coming into the hospital a lot lately. It's usually for paperwork but she always stops and visits her patients. It's really sweet, actually."  
  
"Does she have a name?"   
  
"Lexa... Walder, I think." Clarke shrugged. "We go out for drinks about every other week or so. She's really easy to talk to."  
  
 _Easier than me, apparently,_ but Abby did not dwell outwardly on that. "What is it that you talk about?"   
  
"A bit of everything..." Clarke said. "Work, relationships, family, travel," she explained, beginning to open up. "She said she'll take me to Siberia with her, if I want to. How cool is that?"   
  
"Why Siberia?"  
  
"Vastness," Clarke said, wonderlust in her eyes. "That's what Lexa says anyway."  
  
"That's very poetic," Abby said a little dryly. She had never been a fan of poetry. That has been Clarke's father. And Clarke. Artist Clarke.   
  
"Anyway," Clarke said, sensing her mother's lack of interest. "She's been enlightening." Clarke checked her watch. "I should get back to the hospital."  
  
"Me too." The pair stood and embraced. The stiffness between them was quite the norm. They both had their fair share of damage, and they couldn't quite let go. Let go of the war-zone trauma, or the guilt, or the long lost absence of Jake, which was the reason for all that in the first place.  


	4. Chapter 4

Octavia scanned the bar from the corner. No sign of Clarke yet. She sipped her drink to pass the time. She wished Lincoln was there. She could feel eyes on her from across the bar, belonging to two guys with thick necks and aggressive jaws. She rolled her eyes. Predictable. But she could handle herself in these types of situations. She just wished Clarke would get here. She was beginning to wish she had never taken Raven up on the dare.  
  
Speaking of... Her phone buzzed with a text.   
  
**Reyrez** :  
Any sign of them?

 **Octablake:**  
Nah. I'm bored out of my mind. 

 **Reyrez:**  
Sorry dude this is important. 

 **Octablake:**    
you're so nosy. 

 **Reyrez:**    
Don't act like your not  
  
Octavia glanced toward the door. Maybe Clarke wasn't coming. This wasn't really her scene. Maybe the girl finally got some sense knocked into her.   
  
Octavia had just thought that she would give her five more minutes when Clarke walked through the door. She was giggling and tipsy, and arm in arm with a darker woman who Octavia could only assume was the mystery translator.   
  
She texted Raven.   
  
**Octablake** :   
She's hot.  
  
Truly, the girl was beautiful. She was wearing all black, obviously fit, with a rather intense amount of eyeliner. She walked with a sense of silent confidence, as if she owned the place. She glanced around the bar with calculating eyes, which landed on Clarke, meeting the blonde's eyes with her own; intensely burning.   
  
**Octablake:**  
She fucking smolders. 

 **Reyrez:**  
Oh. My. God.  
  
Clarke laughed, pressing her forehead to the girl's. The other girl leaned in to return the gesture, touching foreheads in what Octavia thought was a rather intimate gesture for two barely-friends. She didn't have time to text Raven, for in the moment, Clarke looked up. "Octavia!" She shouted from across he bar. Octavia raised her drink in a gesture for her to come over.   
  
"Octavia!" Clarke called again, the smolder-ey girl in tow. "I didn't expect to see you here!"   
  
Octavia gave a coy smile. "Likewise, Griffin." The bar was her regular haunt, not Clarke's.   
  
"Right." Clarke giggled. "I go to bars now."   
  
"I can see that."  
  
"It's because of Lexa," Clarke said, gesturing to the darker girl. "It's all her fault."  
  
Lexa. Octavia raised her eyebrows. "Nice to meet you." she extended her hand. Lexa shook it, her gaze astoundingly different than the one she had been giving Clarke. Octavia almost felt intimidated, the way the girl's dark eyes burned into hers, daring her to do.... Something. Look away? Walk away? But Octavia Blake did not get intimidated, so she just stared back.

The awkward eye contact was over in a moment. Lexa resumed her position by Clarke's side, shoulders brushing lightly. This place by Clarke's shoulder was _her_ designated spot normally, Octavia mused. Hers or Raven's. The shoulder brushing, almost always constant contact, standing way too close for comfort? That was the best friends' job. Since when was this stranger in that category?   
  
"Clarke tells me you're a soccer player for Polis," Lexa said. "She says you're incredible."  
  
Flattery. Nice. "Well, I've been on the team all four years." She didn't want to sound conceited, but yeah, she was really good. "My teammates build me up."   
  
"I was on the Polis team a few years ago," Lexa said. "I'm glad that you're continuing on the legacy."  
  
"Wait hold on," Octavia said, something in her memory sparked. "Lexa? You're Lexa Walder? _The_ Alexandra Walder? The one who led the team to three back to back championships and a national title? Holy shit."   
  
Lexa looked not the least bit embarrassed. _Not humble either,_ Octavia noted. It did not stop her from being impressive.  
  
"I was inducted into that team and nobody could shut up about you," Octavia recalled, laughing. "Like, 'when Lexa was captain you would never get away with playing like that! When Lexa was here we ran five miles as a warm up!' It was intense."  
  
Lexa smirked. "I'm glad to see my legacy lives on. I hear you're the one making everyone run miles now."   
  
Octavia shrugged. It was true. She was no Lexa, but she came damn close. And people respected her for it.   
  
"You never mentioned that you were a star athlete in college..." Clarke said, amused but frowning.  
  
"You don't care much for sports," Lexa said, rubbing Clarke's shoulder. "I didn't think it mattered."  
  
_Maybe she is a_ little _humble..._ Octavia thought. She was thinking back on all the things her teammates had said about Lexa, trying to complete her understanding of the girl. Lexa was way wealthy. Her father was some sort of military general? Or something? She grew up in Europe, which is why she became so good at soccer.  
  
Perhaps it was because Octavia was lost in thought in a bar with music blaring, but it took her an embarrassingly long time to remember the thing that had been talked about the most. But as she watched Lexa and Clarke, now talking very close together, foreheads almost touching and bodies pressed together, she remembered.  
  
Lexa was gay. Very gay.  
  
_That's a thing..._ Octavia mused. _I wonder if Clarke knows..._  
  
Clarke broke away from Lexa and leaned towards the bar. Octavia watched her flirt her way to the bartender and order two drinks, winking to earn some extra vodka in her cosmopolitan. She smiled and laughed at the one-liner the bartender gave her in response, twirling a finger through her curls. She returned to Lexa, drinks in hand. "Come on!" She pulled Lexa by the hand over to the dance floor and motioned for Octavia to follow. Octavia shook her head with a smile. She wanted nothing more than to watch this unfold from a healthy distance across the bar.   
  
Lexa looked to still be in perfect shape. The five years since her departure from Polis had been good to her. She sported a few more tattoos than she did when the team pictures had been taken. Octavia hadn't pegged her as a dancer, but it turns out she was a damn good one.  
  
Clarke on the other hand was as awkward in this type of situation as Octavia remembered her being. It had been a long time since Clarke had been to any parties, and it showed. She danced with her hands drifting above her head, swaying as fluidly as she could, which was to say, not fluid at all. Octavia chuckled. Clarke had never been a party animal.   
  
But Lexa didn't seem to mind. She danced close and closer, hips swaying to match Clarke's, arms extending and hands meeting Clarke's, their fingers intertwining as Lexa brought them back down to their sides.  
  
_Clarke has no idea..._ Octavia realized, as Lexa leaned close in to whisper something in Clarke's ear, her lips brushing Clarke's cheek. Clarke laughed, but drew her face away, ducking it into Lexa's shoulder.   
  
_She really has no idea..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would Raven and Octavia use perfect grammar while texting? Ask yourselves the real questions. 
> 
> Octablake, I totally stole that from HINS/Chat AU. It's just soooo perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

Raven heard Octavia come home a quarter passed midnight.  
  
"You stopped texting me," she said rather bluntly.  
  
"In person is better." Octavia said, sitting down next to her roommate.  
  
"Details. Now."  
  
"Okay." Octavia didn't quite know where to begin. The rest of the night had passed in a blur.  
  
"So Lexa..." Octavia began. "Played for the Polis team. She's Lexa Walder. The star player."  
  
"I have no idea who that is." Raven shook her head. "But continue."  
  
"She's brilliant," Octavia said. "Or was. She's like, super rich, from Europe or something."  
  
"Damn, although," said Raven. "Not surprising. Clarke said she speaks like, six languages."  
  
"Anyway," Octavia continued, "I was trying to remember all the stuff the girls said about her the year I joined the team. Lexa had just left and they wouldn't shut up about her. Raven," Octavia paused for dramatic effect. "Lexa is gay."  
  
Raven raised her eyebrows. "Everyone who plays college sports is gay. No offense."  
  
"That is just a glaring, glaring stereotype," Octavia rolled her eyes.  
  
"Joking, obviously, but how do you know that wasn't just a rumor?"  
  
Octavia leaned in earnestly. "She made out with everyone. Slept with at least one co-captain. She's hella gay. And she got around."  
  
"What a close band of teammates."  
  
"You have no idea."  
  
"Wait, does Clarke know?"  
  
Octavia shook her head. "It didn't seem like it."  
  
"What?"  
  
"They danced for hours. When I left they were still dancing. And Lexa was all over her."  
  
Raven huffed. "Hell, no. Bitch better back off my sister. Was Clarke okay?"  
  
"I guess?" Octavia said. "She seems to really like her. Maybe she's sending mixed signals."  
  
"Oh Clarke..." Raven sighed. "Little Clarke..."  
  
"Should we tell her? It would be unfair to keep leading Lexa on."  
  
Raven shrugged. "I don't know. From the sound of it, Lexa can handle herself."  
  
"Play it by ear?"  
  
"Play it by ear."


	6. Chapter 6

Anya woke up to a phone call.  
  
"Lexa? Are you okay?"  
  
She heard a shaky breath at the end of the line.  
  
"Lexa?"  
  
"Anya? Sorry..."  
  
"Are you okay? Have you been drinking?"  
  
"Yeah Anya I'm fine..."  
  
"You don't sound fine." Anya was reaching for her car keys. "Where are you? I'm coming to pick you up."  
  
"Anya- An- wait. I'm home. I'm at home. I'm fine. I just need someone to talk to."  
  
Anya's heart sank. This wasn't the first phone call she had gotten from Lexa in the dead of night, but it had been years.  
  
"Are you safe?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Anya waited and listened, straining her ears to hear Lexa's surroundings. There was nothing.  
  
"I went out tonight," Lexa said. Anya realized that her speech was slurred. "To The Bunker."  
  
The Bunker? The Bunker was a college bar. Lexa hadn't gone there in years.  
  
"By yourself?" Anya needed to keep Lexa talking.  
  
"I took Clarke. She... We met at the hospital."  
  
Clarke was a new name. Lexa hadn't had a new name in a long time.  
  
"Was it a fun evening?" Anya asked cautiously. She couldn't figure out if Lexa was upset or not.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah it was... Anya.... Clarke, Clarke is so nice. She's got lovely blonde hair and she's so soft."  
  
Anya laughed softly to herself. This wasn't the emergency she thought it was.  
  
"And she's a terrible dancer, Anya, she's awful," Lexa laughed. "But she's so cute. And she's so nice... She's got the most beautiful smile."  
  
"Girl, you've got it," Anya laughed. Maybe that was the reason Lexa was so riled up the other day. "You've got it so bad..."  
  
"I know, Anya. And I know... I think... She's... I don't think she's... She's straight, Anya. I'm pretty sure."  
  
"Oh... Kid..."  
  
"And like, I would just go for it but... She's... I can't do that to her. She's so lovely. She's too good for me."  
  
Anya's heart pulled for Lexa. She had not been in love since Costia. Whatever this was, love or a crush, it made Lexa care. She hadn't cared about anyone since Costia. Not truly anyway.  
  
"What are you going to do?" Anya asked.  
  
"I guess I have to tell her." Lexa said, her voice pained. "It's not fair to her. I just have to tell her and accept the consequences of my actions."  
  
"I think that's wise..." Anya said, cautiously but supportively.  
  
"I can handle rejection," Lexa slurred. "I can."  
  
Anya stayed on the line with her until she said goodnight, but didn't add much to the conversation. She didn't believe Lexa. Lexa would be heart broken. But then again, Anya thought as she crawled back into bed, Lexa already has taken this as a rejection before she's even asked. Things could only go up from here. 


	7. Chapter 7

Clarke's alarm blared at 7 am. She groaned and tried to turn it off, knocking it off the dresser in the process.  
  
"Fuck..." She muttered. Her throat was scratchy and her whole body ached. "Ow."  
  
Clarke wasn't used to drinking and therefor not used to hangovers either. This was a particularly bad one because she had drank an intense amount last night.  
  
_Did I black out?_ Clarke struggled to remember how she had gotten home. Her alarm clock beeped again from the floor.  
  
"Damn fucking shit thing..." Clarke rolled out of bed to stop the alarm. Did she set her alarm for the wrong time? She didn't have to be at the hospital until the late afternoon today. Did she just go on autopilot? She didn't even remember setting an alarm. Why would she set one so early?  
  
Clarke lay back in bed and tried to go back to sleep. What did she remember from the previous night? Not much. Going to The Bunker with Lexa. Running into Octavia. Octavia... Shit. What did she say to Octavia?  
  
Clarke had not wanted to run into either of her roommates. Or any of her friends for that matter. Not while she was with Lexa. For whatever reason, Lexa seemed... Private. Something about their friendship seemed exclusive. Something that Clarke didn't want to share.  
  
Clarke thought back on the night. There had definitely been dancing... A lot of dancing. Octavia wouldn't dance with her. But Lexa would. And did. All night.  
  
Claire felt a flush of embarrassment. She wasn't a good dancer. Lexa was. The drunken fog of forgetfulness was lifting. Lexa, dancing like some sort of seductress, closer, on top of her, their hand intertwining, Lexa whispering something in her ear... Was it English? The music had been too loud. She couldn't hear.  
  
_Maybe it was better though,_ Clarke thought, _that I didn't hear._ She had ducked her head, laughing low and avoiding Lexa's lips, which were drifting closer and closer to meeting her own.  
  
_Not that I would have minded,_ Clarke thought. _Just not in front of Octavia. Of a bar full of people._  
  
_Did Lexa really try to kiss me?_ Up until that moment, Clarke had not truly thought about it. But now, fully awake and slightly alarmed, it caught her full attention.  
  
How drunk had Lexa been? Was it just one of those 'I'm drunk, she's drunk, let's make out' things? Or was Lexa really flirting with her? Is that what this whole thing has been? Lexa hitting on her? _Are we not simply friends?_

Clarke grabbed her phone to text one of her housemates to wake them up, then pursed her lips and decided against it. Again, something felt like this should not be shared. This should be private.  
  
Why should they care, anyway? It's not like this- whatever it was- was likely to go anywhere anyway. Lexa was too... Good for her. And Clarke was not typically gay.  
  
She didn't need to text her housemates after all; they were waiting for her in the kitchen.  
  
"What is this," Clarke rubbed her eyes. "An intervention?" Her housemates were looking at her with varying levels of concern. She had to chuckle. "I don't party that much..."  
  
"Clarke," Octavia began, then seemed to retract her forwardness. "How was your evening?"  
  
"Fine actually." _Might as well keep this low key..._ "I take it you got home okay," Clarke said to Octavia. "You sort of disappeared on me."  
  
"You were preoccupied," Octavia said, a slight edge to her voice. Clarke knew she was talking about her dancing. With Lexa.  
  
"Yeah," Clarke brushed her hair back, which had fallen into her face. "My friend is quite the dancer."  
  
"Clarke," Raven began this time, "there's something you should know. About Lexa." Raven threw an expectant look at Octavia.  
  
Octavia gave a little sigh. "Okay. Last night, you know we were talking about soccer? Lexa and I?"  
  
Clarke nodded, wondering what soccer had to do with anything.  
  
"Lexa has a great legacy on the team," Octavia continued. "She graduated a two years before I got there and still, all through my first season, people wouldn't stop talking about her."  
  
"What's your point?"  
  
"My point is, I know a lot of things about her. And there's something you should know." Octavia paused and gave Raven a glance, who nodded encouragingly. "Clarke, Lexa is gay."  
  
Maybe Clarke was still half asleep. Maybe her brain just wasn't fully functioning. Or maybe she had already known this, deep down. But Octavia's words didn't shock or surprise her.  
  
"Uh, okay?" She couldn't even really form words. Why did her friends think it appropriate to hold an intervention for something like this? Why did they even care?  
  
"We just want you to know," Octavia said. "So you know what you're getting into."  
  
_What was I getting myself into?_ Clarke thought. And then, _since we're all so full of opinions, might as well ask...._  
  
"What do you think of the situation? Honestly," she asked Octavia. "I'm curious."  
  
Octavia raised her eyebrows. "Honestly? It's clear she has a thing for you. I don't know what kind of vibes you were giving off at the hospital, but she looks at you like you're the sun."  
  
_Oh,_ Clarke thought, but she was slightly flattered. Before she could blush too hard, she asked, "Anything else?"  
  
Octavia shrugged. "I don't even know about you. You've been on an emotional high ever since you met her, and I can't tell if that's cause you're interested in her or you've just found a shiny new toy. Like the new kid in elementary school. She is pretty fascinating."  
  
Clarke had to chuckle. She asked for honesty after all.  
  
"So now what?" Clarke leaned up against the cabinet, arms crossed. "Now that you've done your snooping and you've settled on a verdict. What next?"  
  
Raven laughed. "Dude, nothing for us, we just want you to be aware."  
  
"Be aware of... Lexa..."  
  
"Because she's gay," Octavia said.  
  
"We really are just trying to keep things between you two as chill as possible," Raven said. "Transparency all around. Make sure you're both on the same level.”  
  
"Honestly," Octavia said, "you seem really happy around her. I don't want a misunderstanding between you to get in the way of your friendship."  
  
Clarke nodded. "You do realize that you all owe me so hard for listening to you for this long at seven in the morning.”  
  
Octavia put her hand to her heart. "I swear, you can just intervention me--"  
  
"Intervene," Clarke interjected.  
  
Octavia nodded. "Exhibit A," she gestured in Clarke's direction.  
  
"O, I'm talking at least a solid half hour of bullshit about Lincoln or how you should really wear a helmet when you ride your motorcycle...'but Clarke! It's only down the street!' No sir, you have to listen to me."  
  
"Okay okay..." Octavia laughed. "What about this one?" She pointed to Raven. "She gets off scott-free?"  
  
"You owe me.... A study session." Clarke grinned.  
  
"No..." Raven groaned. "No, please..."  
  
"Oh that's much worse," Octavia chucked.  
  
"I'm done with school. I'm finally free. Don't drag me back to hell..." Raven pleaded.  
  
"You owe me," Clarke insisted. "You people are nosy and insist on lecturing me before I've had my coffee."  
  
"Yes, how tragic," Raven said sarcastically.  
  
"We're just looking out for you," Octavia said. "Honestly." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Clarke POV chapter! Finally! 
> 
> This story originally started as a handful of writing exercises where I wanted to write about a relationship from a bunch of different people's perspectives. Clarke and Lexa POV chapters will happen occasionally. See above. 
> 
> Also, bonus--Clarke's night at the bar was something that stemmed from real life events. Quite fun to write.


	8. Chapter 8

Lexa got up for work at her normal time. She pulled her hair back into its normal braid and completed her normal morning routine. Workout, shower, breakfast, rebraid. She was well on her way to forgetting her night; her drunken phone call to Anya, _dancing with Clarke..._  
  
But it wasn't quite forgotten. She reached for the key to her car and remembered; she had to stop at the hospital today.  
  
Like, actually stop at the hospital. Not her 'oh shit, I have paperwork to sign...' Line she had been using as an excuse to see Clarke. She actually had work to do.  
  
The German man who had been brought in a few weeks ago was due to be released from the rehab hospital. He and his wife were in their 80's and didn't speak any English. The nurses had been getting along with a translator app, but the paperwork was more complex than that. So they called Lexa.  
  
And Lexa would have to see Clarke.  
  
Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment that she knew she would have to conceal in front of Clarke. She groaned audibly in frustration. Damn it. She had made a fool of herself last night. Anya... She could explain away. But Clarke? How was she going to explain her behavior to a girl she barely knew?  
  
She started her car angrily and drove angrily--not aggressively though, she was a good driver, damn it--to the hospital. She flashed her badge at the garage and walked scowling into the building.  
  
"Woah Alexandra," said the man at the front desk. "You kill someone out there?"  
  
"Could I?" She responded dryly, leaning on the counter, rummaging in her bag for a pen.  
  
"This is a hospital," the man responded with rival dryness. "That would be counterproductive."  
  
Lexa smirked. "Herr Schultz giving anyone any problems?"  
  
"No, but it's a total pain to bring you in every couple of days," said the man.  
  
"Ha ha..."  
  
"He's on the third floor. Rehab wing. Room..." Papers were shuffled. "355."  
  
"Thanks Marcus."  
  
Lexa headed up to the third floor, willing her heart to stop racing in anticipation. She had by this point rehearsed what she would say to Clarke if she ran into her. The emphasis would be on keeping everything low key, chill. _Yeah I totally meant to do that._ No, that sounds like she had planned to hit on Clarke the whole evening. _I totally didn't mean to do that._ Apologizing? Not her style. Too defensive.  
  
Okay, maybe she had not settled on what to say to Clarke. She wanted desperately to forget the whole evening.  
  
 _Or did she?_  
  
355\. She knocked before entering. Herr Shultz did not respond. She didn't expect he would. His normal nurses could not understand him anyway.  
  
"Guten Tag, Herr Schultz," Lexa said quietly. The elderly man looked up from his chair, where he sat reading.  
  
"Tag, Frau Walder," Shultz said. Lexa was surprised he remembered her. Although he was a former politician. It was his job to remember names.  
  
"Kann ich nach Hause gehe? Dass ist was der Krankenschwester hat gesagt; dass ich nach Hause gehen könnte."  
  
"Ja, das ist richtig," Lexa said with a smile.  
  
She helped the old man with his paperwork, which was of an astounding volume. And when his wife arrived, she helped her to understand the situation in full. Lexa decided that this was the type of job that she enjoyed the most; helping people. Not translating for A-List people. Rather, helping clear the waters. Lift the fog. Bring clarity.  
  
"Klar," said Frau Schultz. "Koennen Sie uns zum Flughafen zu fahren?"

"Ich wurde sehen." Lexa said, making a note to ask the hospital. She hoped she would be able to accompany the pair of them to the airport. She found airports confusing, even in English.  
  
She left the elderly couple to pack for their departure and wandered the halls of the hospital for a little while. Consciously, she was simply clearing her brain. But her stomach was pulling knots at the thought of seeing Clarke.  
  
She works here, Lexa knew, like, all the time. How was she not here?  
  
It had become routine for Lexa to look for Clarke every day that she would come into the hospital. And every day she looked, she would find Clarke.  
  
Did she even want to find Clarke today? When she walked in that morning, he was certain that she didn't. Avoid confrontation, and avoid awkward conversations. But the hospital felt... Empty without the blonde's presence. Her smile lit up the sterile hallways. Made the place bearable.  
  
Clarke was nowhere to be found, and Lexa did not know the hospital well enough to stray from the main hallways, so she returned to the main desk to inquire about the airport.  
  
"Hello again, Alexandra," Marcus said as she headed towards him. "Everything all settled?"  
  
"I think so. Will they be getting an escort to the airport?"  
  
"Not from us, unfortunately." Marcus looked legitimately sad. "Out care sort of stops at the door, at least in that regard."  
  
Lexa shrugged. It sucked, but it wasn't unexpected. "The government isn't calling anyone?"  
  
"You're the person they would have called."  
  
Lexa felt a touch of annoyance. The rest of her day was looking to soon be filled with a trip to the airport. Not that she really minded, it just wasn't in her plans.  
  
Seeing Clarke, however, had been in her plans. Not particularly pleasant plans, but plans nonetheless. And she couldn't find Clarke.  
  
"One more question," Lexa turned back to Marcus. "That blonde girl, Clarke Griffin... Is she here today?"  
  
Marcus smiled gently. "I know Clarke. You two are friends, right? She'll be in later this afternoon. They have the poor kid working the graveyard, but that's internships for you."  
  
"Yeah," Lexa gave a hollow laugh. "Thanks Marcus, again."  
  
Lexa walked back to Herr Schultz's room. This evening? Clarke wouldn't be in until this evening? Lexa felt as thought the wind had been knocked out of her by some sort of crushing disappointment; and she was mildly surprised that she felt that strongly.  
  
It was then that Lexa realized that whether Clarke was straight or gay, it didn't matter. Being embarrassed in front of Clarke was way better than not seeing her at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I have no idea how hospitals or translators work, especially for government officials. My defense, this is a work of fiction.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pardon my "arabic" -- I used google translate. I do speak German (see other chapter), but I do not speak Arabic.

Raven sat in the living room with Octavia.  
  
"You've got a funny look," said the younger girl. She had come home from an early afternoon class, and was relaxing in the few hours before practice.  
  
"Hm?" Raven said absently. It was her day off, and she did not do well with boredom.  
  
"Your expression," Octavia clarified. "Is weird. What you thinking about?"  
  
Raven took a long pause. A lot was racing through her mind, actually. Stuff about Clarke, stuff about Lexa, even about Finn.  
  
"We shouldn't have intervened," Raven. "That's all I keep thinking."  
  
Octavia scoffed. "Clarke seemed fine. She was all smiles and dumb jokes before she left."  
  
"She left early," Raven insisted. "Since when does Clarke leave early to do anything?"  
  
"True."  
  
"And the smiles mean almost nothing." Raven knew Clarke was inscrutable. She hid her discomfort, her unhappiness, even sometimes her anger under a smile and clear eyes. Raven knew this. Octavia should know this too; they had been friends for so long.  
  
But Raven had been friends with Clarke for way longer. In all but blood, the two were sisters. And sisters tell each other everything.  
  
_Except Clarke hasn't,_ Raven couldn't help but think. _Not for close to three years._  
  
"I'm sure Clarke is fine," Octavia said, standing and stretching. "We explained ourselves and she took it. It's done."  
  
And that was how it always was with Octavia, Raven thought. Matter of fact. Done. No regrets. And that's how Raven used to be. But those years ago, everything went to hell, and her and Clarke both came away different; a little more fragile. A little colder.  
  
A little more... Cautious. She picked up her phone to text Clarke. 

* * *

"How's the hangover, Lex?" Anya picked up Lexa's phone call over lunch.  
  
"Nonexistent, as always," Lexa said coolly from the other line.  
  
"I'm surprised. Do you remember anything?"  
  
"Most things, which is terribly unfortunate and I'd prefer not to speak about it. Ever." Lexa sounded pissed. But Anya knew she hadn't pushed her limits quite yet.  
  
"Oh Lex," Anya said, doing her best to patronize her younger friend. "You're not getting off that easy. We have to talk about Clarke. Did you talk to her since last night?"  
  
"Anya--"  
  
"Did you run into her at the hospital? Did she say anything about it?"  
  
"Anya," Lexa said firmly. "I will talk to you about this. But later. I have to run to the airport and it's taking forever."  
  
"So no boxing?"  
  
"Sorry. Can you swing around by my place tonight? I'll bring fruit."  
  
"Yeah you will."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"I'll be there." Anya hung up, curiosity peaked. Lexa was inscrutable. Anya had seen a rare glimpse of the old Lexa last night. The old Lexa used to confide in her. Ask her for advice. This new Lexa had to be drunk to do so. It was better than nothing, Anya supposed. Still, she wished the conversations would go easier. Anya really did care for Lexa, and for a while, after Syria, she had scared her a bit.  
  
Syria was stressful to begin with. Lexa, 4.0 Lexa, had been offered a job as a translator for the government. Her father's high military status had no doubt helped, but Lexa was the most qualified person Anya could imagine. Fluent in German, Russian, Spanish, French, Turkish, Arabic, and proficient in several dialects, Lexa was perfect for whatever they needed. Anya had been excited for her.  
  
Lexa was first sent to the Middle East to help translate for international doctors who were treating refugees in Syria. It was supposed to be a low-risk assignment. The refugees had made it out of the war-zone, and we're being treated for travel ailments; dehydration, shock, exhaustion, minor sprains and the like. It was not supposed to be dangerous.  
  
It was here that Lexa had met Costia. Costia was a journalist; a few years out of school, she was a chase-the-story type person, and the story had brought her to Syria to write about the refugees. Costia and Lexa bonded instantly, Lexa translating for Costia when needed and providing... comfort.  
  
Lexa had said later that they were in love. Anya wasn't sure she believed her; that they were instead driven together in a stressful situation, which increased the intensity of their relationship. But she had never told Lexa that.  
  
Two weeks into the trip, the refugee camp was brought right back into the war. Lexa had told Costia to get out while she still could, but Costia stayed; her story had just gotten more interesting. Lexa was told to stay as well; the incoming troops had use for her. They survived this arrangement for some time, sadly getting comfortable with the rising death toll. Costia's story was nearly finished in a few months. Lexa slept through gunfire that echoed across the desert.  
  
Lexa had told Anya that the pair of them shared more than a bed; they shared their fears, anxieties and secrets, whispered in the dark of Costia's tent. Costia was older, wiser. She whispered words of comfort in Lexa's ears when she knew Lexa was not coping. She planted assuring kisses along her brow, and promised that when they made it out, they would have each other for eternity.  
  
Indeed, Anya thought, it would be hard not to love that.  
  
Lexa did not like to talk about herself. It had taken weeks before Lexa told Anya the bare facts about what happened, and months before Anya could really uncover the whole story.  
  
There was an accident. Costia wasn't supposed to be in the area, but she just had to see Lexa.  
  
Lexa was told later that she had been the target; a girl with dark hair in braids, a "مترجم شفوي"-- an interpreter, a spy.  
  
She had been the target. But Costia got in the way. Costia had kissed her at the door, in the room, desperately. She had finished the story! It was en route to the editors now! And Lexa had kissed her back. She was so proud. The two shared the afternoon, and then Costia left. Walked right out Lexa's front door, where she was promptly shot.  
  
The military analytics said that it was a sniper job, and a poor one. Costia also had dark hair, but any decent intelligence would have made it clear that Costia was not Lexa. And Lexa was not Costia, although as she rushed to Costia's side that day, she wished she was. And she continued to wish that it had been her with a bullet through her forehead, that it had been her to collapse in a heap, dead in a second. She wished it for the next three years.  
  
But that went a bit beyond the facts. Anya had inferred a great deal of the story over the years... Piecing together drunken confessions and quickly deleted posts on social media . Lexa was private, and careful about it, but Anya saw through it. That's what best friends were supposed to do, right?  
  
This dinner invitation would be one of those rare moments where Lexa opened up, or at least Anya hoped so.  
  
She knocked on Lexa's door at a quarter til 8. Lexa opened with a small grin. "Hey," she said. "How was the gym?"  
  
"Boring," Anya said. "How was the airport?"  
  
"Not boring," Lexa said, "security had all kinds of questions for me. 'Why are you here? What kind of security clearance do you have exactly? Why do you travel so much? And what the hell were you doing in Syria?'"  
  
Syria was a touchy subject, as Anya knew. "What did you tell them?"  
  
Lexa shrugged. "I was about 15 minutes into questioning at this point. I was frustrated so I told them I was a spy."  
  
"I take it they weren't too happy?" Anya couldn't tell if Lexa was kidding or not. Syria was a touchy subject, but Lexa totally had the nerve to piss people off like that.  
  
"They were quite upset," Lexa grinned. "But it was sort of true, and anyway my security clearance came through their systems mere seconds afterwords so all was well."  
  
Anya shook her head and helped herself to some of the fruit that sat in the bowl on Lexa's kitchen table. She speared a pineapple with certain satisfaction. "Damn good fruit."  
  
"It's in season."  
  
Anya fell silent. She didn't want to be the one to bring up Clarke, but Lexa wasn't making any moves to. She sighed internally, releasing her frustrations in a long, slow breath and clenched fists.  
  
"So." Silence. "Clarke."  
  
"Right," was all Lexa said in response. She suddenly had become interested in the table corner's chipping finish.  
  
"Do you want to talk about her?"  
  
"Not really," Lexa's voice was controlled, paced, as if she were weighing every word on her tongue before saying them. "But I know I said I would. What do you want me to talk about?"  
  
Anya unclenched her fists, then clenched them again in frustration. This wasn't supposed to be an interrogation.  
  
"How was your night?" She asked finally, trying to mask her irritation. "Did you talk to her yet?"  
  
"The night was fine. Pretty much what I told you on the phone." Lexa speared a strawberry with a little too much force. "I danced with her for hours. Way too close."  
  
"Did she think it was too close?"  
  
"She was drunk. She didn't think. I didn't either."  
  
"Did it go further than dancing?"  
  
Lexa shook her head. "I tried... Anya I tried to kiss her. Just once. I just leaned in... I just wanted to see... If she would kiss me back." Lexa ended in a mumble. Anya took that as a no--they didn't kiss.  
  
"She hates me, I just know she does," Lexa said, her voice almost a whisper. "I didn't mean to freak her out like that. I shouldn't have acted that way. I don't even think she's gay--"  
  
"Lexa," Anya said firmly. "What did she do? Did she walk away from you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Did she stop dancing? Did she really freak out? What did she do?"  
  
Lexa was quiet. When she responded, it was quiet as well. "She kept dancing. For hours. And she kept smiling at me."  
  
"You need to chill. Just because she didn't want to kiss you doesn't mean she wasn't enjoying herself. Plenty of people have platonic fun," Anya said, half-joking. She wanted to coax a smile from Lexa, but she was unsuccessful.  
  
"I didn't want to make her uncomfortable, I really... I want her to know that..."  
  
"Tell her. You have to." Anya saw the distress in Lexa's eyes and knew that it wouldn't be over until Lexa saw Clarke again. "Seriously."  
  
Lexa shook her head slowly.  
  
"Lexa. You're getting yourself worked up. You wouldn't be this upset if you just talked to her."  
  
"I just... I really like hanging out with her. Whether she's gay or not..."  
  
"I know." Anya reached over to take Lexa's hand in hers. "I know." 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back storyyyyyy :D
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has left feedback so far! I appreciate your comments a TON. 
> 
> I pull a lot of stuff that I write about from real life events. Lexa and Clarke's evening at the bar was pulled from real life, as I've mentioned, and Lexa's conversation with Anya is also based on real events. Obviously, the drama is heightened for the sake of the story, but hey, write what you know, right?


	10. Chapter 10

Abby entered the hospital at a quarter til 8. A wave of familiarity hit her as she walked through the halls that he had spent so much time in; she had transferred buildings only a few years ago.  
  
"Abby!" Marcus greeted her with a hug. "Wonderful to see you."  
  
"You as well. It's been too long." Abby smiled and returned the man's embrace gladly. They had been friends for a long time, although they didn't keep up nearly as much as Abby would like.  
  
"Indeed. What brings you to our neck of the woods?"  
  
"Clarke," Abby said. "I heard they have her working graveyard."  
  
"Yes they do," said Marcus. "Although she does great at night. Cheerful as always. Always says the right things, she does."  
  
Abby felt a glow of pride. Clarke had a knack for persevering through chaos. Not only was the night shift often busy, it was also chaotic. Weird people and high stress situations. Abby hoped that Clarke was balancing her time well; the night shift was draining.  
  
"Do you want me to page her in?" Marcus offered. "I don't know where she's at, but we haven't been crazy yet, so she's probably not far."  
  
"Thank you," Abby said.  
  
In a few moments, Clarke appeared, her hair pulled half back as always, looking very much the part of doctor that she was playing.  
  
"Oh," she stopped, surprised. "Hi mom."  
  
"Care for a coffee break? My treat."  
  
Clarke nodded, then checked her watch. "Give me five?"  
  
"Whatever you need." Abby understood. She had gone through med school. She understood the nervous, frantic-ness of a first graveyard shift.  
  
"I'm good," Clarke reappeared.  
  
"That was fast," Abby commented as the pair headed down to the break room.  
  
"Doctor Niko said he'll cover me," Clarke said. "He's chill like that."  
  
Abby tutted her disapproval. Niko was skilled undoubtedly, but he was into natural remedies on the side. Abby had never approved of that. She hoped he was not being a bad influence on Clarke.  
  
"Do you want me to be able to take a coffee break?" Clarke had heard her mother's disapproval. "Because Niko so kindly is covering for me."  
  
Abby raised her eyebrows. We were back to this. Tension between the two of them was normal and expected. Clarke had too much of Jake in her. Not that that was always a bad thing...  
  
Coffee. Right. The two went down to the familiar break room. The coffee was actually decent if you paid a little extra, and a TV and couch made it as homey as you could get at a hospital. They got their coffee and sat, both letting out identical sighs.  
  
"How was your day?" Clarke was the first to ask.  
  
"Busy," Abby admitted, "but not crazy. Yours?"  
  
"Spend most of it out of the house," Clarke said, stirring a sugar into her coffee. She had not paid extra.  
  
"They have you scheduled to work that much?"  
  
"No..." Clarke said. "I just didn't want to be home." Her voice was stilted, careful.  
  
"Trouble in paradise?"  
  
"Not like you'd think." Clarke laughed lightly. "I went out last night, and the roommates held an intervention for me this morning. It's stupid."  
  
Abby raised her eyebrows again. "Oh?"  
  
"Kinda dumb, right?"  
  
"Well I don't know," Abby said. "You turning into some kind of party animal?"  
  
Clarke laughed again. "Are you kidding me? No, it was more about the company I was keeping."  
  
"Was it that translator?"  
  
Clarke smiled. "Yeah. Like I said, stupid."  
  
"Want to talk about it?"  
  
"Not really. It's stupid." There's that word again. _Immature of her,_ Abby noted. _Quite childish._ Abby wished she had taken psychology more seriously in college. Perhaps she could understand her daughter better. She went with the next best thing; take her word for it.  
  
"Okay." There. Drop it. Have a little faith in your daughter that she'll do the right thing. If the translator was putting her off her work, Clarke would figure it out soon enough. "Are you surviving your first graveyard shift?"  
  
"Oh this isn't my first one," Clarke said quickly. "My third? I think?"  
  
"Impressive," Abby said, in a way that made her sound not at all impressed. "Why so many so soon?"  
  
"The extra hours don't suck," Clarke said. "And if I'm not going to sleep anyway, I might as well get paid for it."  
  
"Having trouble sleeping again?" Abby knew this was a recurring thing. Between nightmares about her father, war-zones, Finn, and now job stress, Clarke had been plagued with insomnia on and off for years.  
  
"It's always the same," Clarke muttered, frustrated, although she did not specify what exactly she was talking about.  
  
"Are you taking anything for it?"  
  
"I'm not going to start taking sleeping pills," Clarke said hotly.  
  
"Sweetly, how can you recommend them to patients if you can't take them yourself?" Abby tried to get her daughter to use logic. She couldn't be afraid of modern medicine. As a doctor, that would be ridiculous.  
  
"I don't recommend them to patients. I'm not a doctor."  
  
"You know what I mean. You are starting to sound like Raven."  
  
"I won't recommend them, even when I am a doctor." Clarke ignored the part about Raven.  
  
So she is taking a leaf out of Niko's book, Abby noted. "Has Niko given you any natural sleeping remedies?"  
  
"I don't tend to discuss my sleeping patterns with my coworkers." Clarke was all sarcasm today. Perhaps Abby shouldn't be giving her such a hard time. She hadn't slept much recently. _No,_ She thought again, _a concerned mother's job is to understand her daughter, whether that annoys her or not._  
  
"That's why I've been getting out of the house," Clark explained. "I'm not sleeping anyway."  
  
I'm not sure that going out is really the solution for that, Abby thought, but she knew Clarke knew that anyway, and Clarke had finally stopped snapping at her, so she was thinking of just leaving it.  
  
"Lexa says I need to unwind." And there was the kicker.  
  
"Your mother says you need to sleep," Abby immediately jumped to Clarke's defense, since she wouldn't.  
  
"Whatever." Clarke said, suddenly sounding too tired to fight. "I'm having a good time, so..."  
  
Abby nodded tersely. Clarke was certainly not her; focused and driven on solely medicine. Perhaps that was better--Abby had not budgeted for a family or hobbies, which had left her life rather... Sterile.  
  
Clarke's pager went off, and she checked it with a small sigh. "Well," she drained the rest of her coffee. "Back to work. Thanks for the coffee. And for stopping by." Clarke sounded quite genuine, to Abby's slight surprise.  
  
He laid a hand on Clarke's shoulder. "Anytime. And please, take care of yourself first, okay?"  
  
"I'm trying to become a doctor, mom." Clarke said with a small smile. "Doctors never follow that advice." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally have no clue what Marcus' roll is in this. No clue. He's like some sort of hospital admin or something. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for your feedback on this! The next chapter is going to be a hell-of-a-ride, so keep a watch out for it!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is *the* Clarke chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

Marcus stopped Clarke on her way back to her patients.  
  
"Clarke! A friend of yours was looking for you earlier," he said. "Miss Walder."  
  
Clarke's heart gave a little skip. "Really?"  
  
"She seemed a little disappointed that you weren't in until later," Marcus said.  
  
"Is that so?" Clarke checked her phone, expecting a message from Lexa. Instead, she saw a message from Raven. She rolled her eyes before reading:  
  
**Reyyy**   
Hey. Sorry about earlier.  
We really should just let you be.  
I do have faith in you. You know  
this though.

  
Clarke smiled faintly. Somehow, the whole thing had felt more like Octavia's doing from the start. Raven did have faith in her. The two had a trust that only sisters could really have. Still, she didn't reply. She didn't know what to say, really. She was also mildly passive-aggressive.

And mad that Lexa never texted her, I mean, what the hell?  
  
So she sent a message.  
  
**Clarke**   
Hey! Sorry I missed you at the  
hospital today.

  
It took Lexa a few minutes to reply, but Clarke's minutes were up before then. Back to find Niko. Back to work.  
  
She had been doing very basic things like changing bandages when she had left. It really was a calm night.  
  
"How was your break?" Niko asked as Clarke checked the IV of a patient.  
  
"Nice, thank you," Clarke said.  
  
"Must be cool to have your mom to talk to about medicine," Niko said. "My mom is a seamstress, and not the surgical kind."  
  
Clarke smiled. "Yeah it certainly is nice to pick her brain. She's very good at what she does."

"That she is." Niko said, checking his paperwork.

Clarke didn't bother telling Niko that her mother and her could hardly hold a conversation that wasn't about medicine--that their relationship had been strained since childhood, but was even worse in recent years. Clarke didn't think that Niko really wanted to hear about her personal problems. She wasn't a doctor yet; she hadn't reached that level with her coworkers.

Niko's pager beeped. "Ah," he muttered as he read the message. "Clarke, we gotta go."

"E.R.?"

"Yep. Ambulance just rushed them in. Two teenagers. Car crash."  
  
Clarke's heart stopped. Her blood ran cold.  
  
"Griffin? You with me?"  
  
Clarke nodded numbly. This wasn't her first rodeo in the E.R. This was, however, her first time dealing with car crash victims. Her usual emergency patients had sprained ankles or swallowed something they should not have. Car crashes just hit a little too close to home. Brought up too many memories that she tried to bury every day.

"Hey," Niko put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm with you, okay? Let's make a difference. These kids need us."  
  
Clarke nodded again, then steeled herself for the task. These kids did need her. She might be the difference for them, for whether they make it or not.  
  
The two teenage boys were strapped to stretchers by the time Niko and her rushed into the room. The EMTs shouted directions to Niko, who nodded, furrowing his brow in concentration. He turned to give orders but Clarke wasn't trying to listen anymore. She was looking at the boys. One was dark skinned, with a head injury. The other was smaller, paler, with shaggy hair. His legs were a crumpled mess, and an oxygen mask was strapped to his face. He moved feebly and a nurse rushed to reassure him and keep him still.  
  
_Finn..._ Clarke thought. Then, _I should be doing that..._   
  
Immediately she stepped into action. Action brought her to the beside of the boys, doing everything Niko requested of her, numbly. _Don't think about it. Don't think about how Finn didn't even make it to the hospital, how he looked sprawled out on the road, his hair flopped in his eyes. Don't think about how you crawled to him just to brush his hair aside. You didn't even check his pulse, you bitch._   
  
"Clarke, the bandages," Niko's voice cut through her thoughts. She shook her head and began removing the bandages on the darker boy's forehead.  
  
"It's okay to be squeamish," one of the nurses said, giving her a grim smile. "But you need to do your job."  
  
Clarke nodded numbly. _Raven... Raven was still in the car. She was pinned and she passed out.... You crawled to Finn and left her there. And she woke up and..._   
  
The boy with the leg injury screamed in pain. "Get him sedated," "Niko ordered. "We need to get them into surgery."  
  
The nurses rushed the boys into surgery, Niko close behind, talking tersely with the surgeons.  
  
The double doors to the surgery wing swung open and back. Niko turned to Clarke. "Take a break. I'll come find you when I'm done."  
  
"I--"  
  
"Take a break, Griffin. Give me an hour."  
  
The doors swung shut again and Clarke was left on the outside, alone with her thoughts.  
  
She stood a moment, stunned, then moved as if in a trance back to the break room.  
  
_What do you mean Finn didn't make it?_ Raven had asked, her voice cold and broken. _You--you were driving...how could you let this happen?_   
  
Clarke had reached the break room. She sat down, her back to the door, and wrapped her shaking hands around her waist.  
  
_You were driving... How could you let this happen?_   
  
Clarke started to rock back and forth, back and forth, her breathing becoming more and more frantic. She knew what this was. She knew she would be shot the rest of the night, and she had five hours to go. She knew... She knew. And she could not do a damn thing about it.  
  
She contemplated texting one of her housemates. But what would she say? She did not want to see Raven right now. She still could not shake the sound of Raven's scream as she sat trapped in the twisted metal of the car.  
  
Neither did she want to text Octavia. Octavia couldn't keep her mouth shut. She would tell Raven. Or Bellamy. Or, God-forbid, her mother.  
  
Lexa... She couldn't put this on Lexa. She hardly knew Lexa.  
  
And so she did nothing. Nothing but sit and cry and breathe until her frantic breaths slowed and her hands stopped shaking.  
  
Doctor Niko returned in a little over an hour; Clarke didn't notice the time. She wiped her eyes frantically before she stood. "How are the boys?"  
  
"Stable. The one boy has a pretty bad concussion, the other one has a fractured femur and a punctured lung."

Clarke was silent.  
  
"The EMTs said it could have been worse."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Clarke, do you know what I mean when I say 'conflict of interest'?" Doctor Niko sat down by Clarke and ran his hand through his hair.  
  
Clarke shook her head.  
  
"It has to do with journalism ethics. For instance, say you volunteer at a soup kitchen, and you write for a newspaper. Your editor wants a news story about the kitchen and its programs. Why can't you write the story?"  
  
Clarke thought--actually thought, like, woke up her brain and focused--about Niko's question. By all accounts, she should be able to write the story. After all, she would have the insider's scoop on the place. But then...  
  
"It would have my opinion in it," Clarke said. "And news is supposed to be impartial."  
  
"Bias," Niko nodded. "Your story would be full of your own personal bias. You'd leave out less-than-ideal details, and the story would be incomplete."  
  
Clarke didn't really know where Niko was heading with this.  
  
"I had a cousin who was a journalist. And journalists have it easy, in some ways. If a subject hits too close to home, they have an out."  
  
Niko sighed. "Doctors don't have that out. There's no such thing as a conflict of interest."  
  
And here came the lecture. Clarke bowed her head in slight submission.  
  
"I know your history with car crashes. I was here when you were brought in. But that doesn't give you an out.  
  
"Doctors aren't like other people. Our personal preferences aren't taken into account. We are totally at the mercy of others. It's a weight we have to bear.  
  
"Clarke, I know you aren't your mother. She can detach herself better than most of us, and sometimes that's not good either. But you have to detach yourself from this. Do you know how many people get injured in car crashes?"  
  
"A lot," Clarke muttered.  
  
Niko nodded. "And we have to treat them. What will happen to them if you're the only doctor on duty and you can't pull it together?"  
  
Clarke nodded. She understood. She couldn't allow herself to fall apart like that again. She raised her chin. "What would you like me to do for the rest of the night?"  
  
"Honestly? And no offense, but go home." Niko gave her a sympathetic grin. "Go home, sleep, ponder the lesson. Come back on Monday ready to go."  
  
Clarke bowed her head again. She wanted to argue with Niko; prove to him that she was capable, but she knew she would lose.  
  
"Clarke, you're a student," Niko reminded her. "You're still learning. And you did help save those boys tonight, but we can handle the rest of the night without you."  
  
Niko headed back to work, and Clarke began to pack to leave. She checked the clock--her shift was supposed to last four more hours. She tried to ignore the feeling of disappointment-in-self that was threatening to crush her. She could not be happier to go home, but at the same time, she was being sent home because she wasn't doing a good job. That had never happened before.  
  
Clarke checked her phone at the door of the hospital. A message from Lexa.  
  
**Lexa Walder**   
It's okay--I was only there  
in passing. How is your shift  
going?  
  
Clarke thought for a moment on what she should say. Should she open up to Lexa--pour her problems out on this girl she barely knew? Lexa hadn't asked for that. Clarke had burdened the nurses and Niko enough tonight at the hospital, she didn't want to burden Lexa too.  
  
**Clarke**   
It's okay. Or was. I got  
out early.  
  
Clarke walked to her car across the dark parking lot. She wasn't expecting Lexa to text her back--it was after midnight after all. But sure enough, as she pulled her seat belt on, she felt her phone buzz with a text.  
  
**Lexa Walder**   
That's nice. Slow night?  
I guess at hospitals a  
slow night is a good night.  
  
Clarke smiled gently at that.  
**  
Clarke**   
It was a little slow. They  
usually don't let people  
go home early but I was  
having a problem with  
two of our ER patents.  
Why are you up so late?  
I hope I didn't wake you  
up....  
  
She started the car. It was only a ten minute drive to her house but tonight it felt so much longer. She parked the car on the street and walked to the front porch. Her housemates had left the porch light on for her. The gesture made her tear up.  
  
She went into the house as quietly as she could--which admittedly, was not very quiet--and dumped herself on the couch. From her placement, she could tell that Octavia's light was still on.  
  
Her phone buzzed again.  
  
**Lexa Walder**   
You didn't wake me.  
I often cannot sleep.  
And what kinds of  
problems? Am I allowed  
to know or does that  
violate something?  
  
**Clarke**   
Like patient confidentiality?  
Not really. It just opens  
up a lot of things I'm not  
sure you want to talk about.  
And I'm sorry you have  
trouble sleeping. If it helps,  
I probably won't sleep  
tonight either.  
  
Octavia's light was still on. Clarke heard movement upstairs and prayed that Octavia would not come downstairs.  
  
**Lexa Walder**   
I would not mind talking  
to you about anything.  
Would you want to go  
somewhere? If your not  
sleeping, that is.  
  
Octavia's door swung open and Clarke saw light flood the upstairs hallway. Octavia was on her way downstairs. Clarke sighed. _Not now..._   
  
Octavia appeared at the top of the stairs. She squinted into the dark downstairs. "Clarke? You down there? I see your phone light."  
  
"Yeah I'm down here." Clarke tried to sound cheerful.  
  
"What are you doing home so early?" Octavia made her way down the stairs and took a seat beside Clarke. "I thought you were working all night?"  
  
"I was supposed to. They let me go early."  
  
"That's weird," said Octavia. "Is that usually what hospitals do if they're not busy?"  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
"Huh." Octavia pondered for a while. "You a didn't get fired did you?"  
  
"I don't think so." Octavia wasn't going to stop until she got some answers. "I got a little squeamish with some ER patients." She tried to simplify it as much as possible. She really did not want to open up a conversation about Finn. However, if the person did not know Finn...  
  
"You? Squeamish? That's hard to believe."  
  
"Well, it happened. And they told me to go home and get some sleep. The problem is I drank so much coffee that I think I'll be up for hours."  
  
Octavia bought it. "Well if you need to watch TV or something, feel free. You won't wake me."  
  
Clarke's phone buzzed again. She checked it quickly.  
  
**Lexa Walder**   
We could go get drinks  
somewhere? Or if you  
want we could go to a  
diner. There's a nice one  
on 5th street.  
  
Clarke turned back to Octavia. "I'm actually a little hungry. I'm going to go get something to eat." She stood up and headed to her room to change.  
  
Octavia followed after her. "You're going out? We have food here," she hissed, trying not to wake Raven.  
  
"I'm hungry for diner food." Clarke entered her room. Octavia followed her.  
  
"By yourself, at this hour?" Octavia pressed.  
  
Clark pulled off her scrubs and tugged on a pair of skinny jeans. "I'm meeting someone."  
  
"Oh my god," Octavia said, not trying to be quiet any more. "You cannot be serious."  
  
Raven had woken up. She opened her door at the end of the hall. "What the fuck? Why are you people so loud?"  
  
Octavia leaned into the hallway. "She's going out again. With Lexa."  
  
Clarke groaned as she pulled on a shirt. She did not need either of them on her case right now.  
  
But Raven said nothing. She stayed quiet so long that Octavia had to ask again, "Are you asleep? Did you not hear me?"  
  
"I heard you," Raven said hotly. "And I was asleep until you all woke me up."  
  
Clarke entered the hallway again. "I'm sorry, Raven. I tried to be quiet."  
  
Raven nodded. "Have fun, be safe, call if you need anything." And she retreated back into her room.  
  
Octavia gaped open-mouthed at Raven's closed door. Clarke almost smiled. Raven was being genuine on her previous text. She moved passed Octavia. "I'm just going to a diner," she said, her hands open as if offering a truce. "No drinks. And it's not a date."  
  
She went downstairs as quickly as possible without a second glance. She left Octavia at the top of the stairs.  
  
She texted Lexa.  
  
**Clarke**   
Which diner? I'm game  
for food.  
  
**Lexa Walder**   
5th street diner. Not a  
very creative name.  
But the food is great.  
  
**Clarke**   
Great! I can be there  
in 10.  
  
Clarke hopped in her car, relieved to see that her hands had finally stopped trembling. She was once again glad that this car had no knowledge of Finn. Nothing in it reminded her of him, because he had never sat in it. Never sat co-pilot as she drove, like he always did. She never let him drive because he was reckless and she was not. _She was not._ Except for that one time.  
  
Her hands were shaking again. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white, and started the car.  
  
It took her longer than 10 minutes. She took every turn painstakingly slow, paused at every stop sign for entirely longer than she should. She arrived at the diner, crossing over an empty two lane street. Thank god it was empty.  
  
She paused before exiting the car, checking her reflection in the mirror. Her face was ghostly white, her eyes rimmed red with stress and lack of sleep. She sighed. Lexa would know something was up. She debated texting Lexa... Telling her she wasn't coming and just going back home. But the thought of driving back home right away was daunting.

She let her head drop back on the head rest and collected herself.  
  
_I'm sorry, Lexa, that you have to deal with me like this,_ she said to herself, and exited the car.  
  
The diner was a classic chrome trailer, complete with neon lights. Clarke swung the door open and gazed around the place. She found familiar brown hair sitting in a booth on the opposite wall. Clarke motioned to the waitress that she was joining another person.  
  
"Hey," she said quietly as she approached the table.  
  
Lexa jumped, then turned around. "Clarke."  
  
"I didn't mean to freak you out." Lexa looked slightly nervous. The napkin in front of her was a twisted mess, as if she could not keep her hands from worrying. But her expression was stone and her posture impeccable.  
  
"You didn't," Lexa said. "I'm glad you could come."  
  
Clark took a seat. "Are you a late-night breakfast kind of person?"  
  
Lexa gave Clarke a small smile. "Absolutely."  
  
They ordered a stack of pancakes between them, with blueberries, strawberries and cream--as per Lexa's suggestion--and two glasses of orange juice.  
  
"Here's to not sleeping," Clarke said, raising her glass in a mock toast. She had finally put a smile on Lexa's face--the nervousness seemed to be gone. Clarke wondered if she had simply imagined it. Perhaps she had projected. Stupid psychology.  
  
"So," Clarke began after she had taken a swig of orange juice. "How was your day?"  
  
Lexa raised her eyebrows. "I thought you were the one who wanted to talk."  
  
Clarke let out a bitter laugh. "I'm giving you an out. I'm not sure you want to hear."  
  
Lexa leaned back. "I'm here to listen, Clarke. I'm a good listener. Don't insult my listening ability."  
  
Clarke grinned, trying to swallow her shakiness and appear normal. "I'm honored, really, but could you share a... something about yourself so I don't feel so weird dumping all my problems on you?”  
  
Lexa stared at Clarke. The fear had returned to her eyes--a black stain that Clarke wanted to so badly erase. She was just about to revoke her request when Lexa said, very quietly, "Okay."  
  
It took another few moments before she started speaking again.  
  
"I'm just really glad that you're here, sitting next to me." Lexa laughed quietly. "I thought I scared you away."  
  
"How could you have done that?" Clarke said. "I don't scare too easily."  
  
"I don't know..." Lexa almost ducked out. Her eyes were growing dark and her face was growing stony.  
  
"Hey," Clarke sought out Lexa's eyes. "It's fine. You don't have to say."  
  
Lexa breathed deeply, as if this was very hard for her to say. "The other night... Dancing...I thought I might have pressured you into doing things you didn't want to do. I'm sorry. And I was prepared to understand why you didn't want to talk to me."  
  
Clarke smiled. She just wanted Lexa to know that she was okay-- she was okay with everything. "If I had been uncomfortable, I would have left. But I do have a question for you."  
  
Lexa was silent. She was very fixated on her hands.  
  
"Did you really try to kiss me?"  
  
Lexa did not move, or even take a breath. "Clarke... I... I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay," Clarke reassured her. "I'm not uncomfortable with it, I've just never kissed a girl before, and definitely not in front of a bar full of people."  
  
"You're not gay," Lexa said, half to herself, as if that settled everything.  
  
Clarke shrugged. "I've never dated a girl. How would I know?"  
  
The darkness in Lexa's eyes disappeared. Clarke understood, or she thought she did. If Lexa had been searching for a connection last night, she found one. She just needed to be accepted.  
  
"Is that enough about me?" Lexa said. "I'm really bad at talking about myself."  
  
"I really appreciate it," Clarke said. "Really."

Their food had arrived. Side note, it looked delicious.  
  
"This doesn't change anything," Lexa said. "I walked over here to listen to you."  
  
"You walked here?" Clarke asked between bites.  
  
"I walk everywhere," Lexa said. "Not really, but I hate driving. And I live right across the field."  
  
"Me too," Clarke said. "I mean, I hate driving."  
  
"It just bores me. How about you?"  
  
Clarke suddenly became very interested her hands, which sat on the table in front of her. "And there's the transition into this conversation.” She took a deep breath. “I was in a really bad accident two years ago. Driving freaks me out."  
  
Lexa just nodded, reassuring, giving Clarke the okay to continue.  
  
"And it wasn't just the wreck. I had two passengers. My boyfriend, and my foster sister." Clarke shook her head. "I'm usually a very careful diver, but for whatever reason, I was speeding. And a drunk driver crossed the highway..." Clarke paused. "The berries and cream was a good idea."  
  
"I told you."  
  
"If I hadn't been speeding, it might have been different. My foster sister was trapped in the car--her leg has never been the same. I walked away with a concussion. My boyfriend was ejected from the vehicle. Killed on impact." Clarke's hands were shaking. Lexa reached across the table. She didn't say anything, but her eyes asked permission. And Clarke gave it to her. She reached across and grasped Clarke's hands to stop the shaking.  
  
"I know it's the drunk driver's fault. I know that. But I still blame myself." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, that's the back story. I usually just keep it to myself but tonight I just... We had two kids come into the ER. Car crash. And I lost it.  
  
"I couldn't do anything the doctor asked me to. I was completely useless. There was like, a mental block there. And then they asked me to leave early and gave me a lecture on how I can't let that kind of stuff bother me... But like, I don't plan on having a melt down, so I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do."  
  
"Did you share this with your foster sister? Do you still speak?"  
  
"Talking about this stuff brings up some painful memories for her too. I don't know if it would help or hurt."  
  
Lexa nodded. "I like that you still talk to your foster sibling."  
  
"It helps that we were friends before. In middle school, she just started living with us. We never adopted her, but she's my sister in full."  
  
"Why say foster sister then?"  
  
"She's Hispanic," Clarke laughed lightly. "When I say sister, people think I'm joking."  
  
Lexa nodded slowly. Clarke wondered if she did that every time she pondered. If that was the case, Clarke decided she liked it.  
  
"People who have never been through a traumatic experience," she began slowly. "Will never truly understand the effects it can have on a person. For them to pass judgment on you is unfair."  
  
Clarke just stared at Lexa. What she said was true, but it sounded like it came straight out of a book. How was it that she could talk like that and still sound so genuine?  
  
"That is to say, I do condone moving on. I can tell that this breakdown has frustrated you. Accept it. Realize that you can't handle car wrecks and find a way to work around it."  
  
"How?" Clarke sounded desperate. "I can hardly drive a car down the road. How am I supposed to face this when every time I am reminded, I see..." Her voice trailed off. She couldn't even bring herself to think about her memories.  
  
"I know it's cliche, but it takes time. isn't an easy fix. You have to stare these images in the face, and you have to lay them aside. Not forgotten, just in another place."  
  
"How is that not painful? I would rather not think about it at all."  
  
Lexa nodded. She seemed to be out of wise things to say. "It's only a method. I've done a lot of reading about this subject."  
  
"Oh so, you've never experienced this?" Clarke couldn't keep the bite out of her voice. "But you can lecture me on this stuff?"  
  
Lexa, for her credit did not back down. Her expression remained cool as she explained herself. "I'm done talking about myself. But if I were to continue, I could tell you a story of love and loss. I don't wish to do that, but if you must see my credentials, I will gladly provide them."  
  
"No...no. Sorry." Clarke said, her voice immediately void of bitterness.  
  
"You've had too many lectures today, I get it." Lexa twirled her fork around the leftover berries. "And I'm afraid my council sounds too much like a lecture. Or so I've been told."  
  
"By who? That's rude," Clarke let out a laugh. "No, it's very nice to talk to someone who doesn't know my boyfriend or my foster sister. Or didn’t," she corrected herself.  
  
"You're still friends with the group of them?"  
  
"It's a big group," Clarke explained. "We're all from the same hometown. We grew up together. You don't really leave that. I think in some ways, losing Finn pushed us closer together.” Clarke shook her head, as if physically clearing the words from the air. She wanted to ease things up. “So what about you? Where are you from?"  
  
Lexa shrugged. "All over. I think your friend Octavia might have told you some things about me."  
  
"Some," Clarke admitted. "Not a lot."  
  
Lexa raised her eyebrows. "I'm surprised. The football, erm, _soccer,_ team found me to be a constant source of amusement, I think."  
  
"Football... So, are you European?"  
  
"I'm a military brat," Lexa said. "My family lived all over the place. Elementary in England, middle school in Pakistan, and high school in Germany, college in the USA, for the most part," Lexa clarified. "I spent some time in the Ukraine, Spain, France, Sweden... Too many places."  
  
"You're a citizen of the world," Clarke admired. "That's so cool."  
  
"But it makes my eight languages significantly less impressive," Lexa said, a slight grin curling around the corners of her mouth.  
  
"Eight?! I thought it was six!"  
  
"Possibly more. I can never decide if I should count dialects as languages or not."  
  
"That's so cool."  
  
"You and the football team," Lexa shook her head. "What is with Americans and your fascination with foreigners?"  
  
"Your accents are hot." Lexa gave Clarke a funny look. "What? You should hear yourself."  
  
The pair got their check. "I'm paying," Clarke said.  
  
"No way," Lexa said, her eyes burning. "I have a full time job. You're still in school."  
  
"Lexa, stop. I made you listen to my life problems. At least let me pay."  
  
Lexa looked at Clarke with narrowed eyes before nodding. "Fine. I'll get the next one."  
  
"Next one?" Clarke raised her eyebrows.  
  
Lexa shrugged. "We've been hanging out a lot. The odds are that at sometime in the future, we'll end up back at this diner at two in the morning, having a heart-to-heart, and..."  
  
Clarke signed and handed her receipt over. She looked back at Lexa. "Do you want to take a walk or something? I'm not particularly tired."  
  
Lexa's expression remained cool. "We could walk the field, crash on my porch or something."  
  
Clarke smiled. "I'd like that."

 


	12. Chapter 12

Lexa's heart wouldn't stop racing.  
  
She had to admit, despite her apparent eagerness, she had been wary of having a heart-to-heart with Clarke Griffin. Lexa was not the type of girl to talk about her feelings. But talking to Clarke was.... easy. Simple. She had known Clarke for a very short time, but already she felt a certain level of ease with her. A certain trust.  
  
Lexa could count on one hand the number of people she trusted. Clarke was fast on her way to becoming one.  
  
"Do you want to take a walk or something? I'm not particularly tired."  
  
Lexa took a steadying breath. _Clarke wasn't running away._ She _wasn't pushing Clarke away. Why?_ "We could walk the field, crash on my porch or something."  
  
Clarke smiled. "I'd like that."  
  
Her smile lit up Lexa's world, although Lexa wouldn't say so. Not yet, anyway.  
  
The pair left the diner and walked in silence, Clarke falling into step beside Lexa. They scaled a hill and, with lungs aching slightly in the night's chill, looked out over the field. It was silver with corn stubble in the moonlight, lined with trees with rustling, dead leaves. In the other side, just visible in the distance, was a pinprick of light coming from the old farmhouse where Lexa resided.  
  
"Is that it over there?" Clarke asked, pointing at the light. "It seems so far away."  
  
Lexa shook her head. "It's closer than it looks."  
  
The pair started to walk, stepping high to avoid the weeds left in the field.  
  
"I know you're done talking about yourself," Clarke began. "But why a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere? You were raised in the most amazing places. Why--"  
  
"Here?" Lexa shrugged. "I liked the school--Polis. It was a change of pace. Slower. The farmhouse... Remember what I said about Siberia?"  
  
"Vastness?"  
  
Lexa nodded. "It's less vast than the tundra, for sure, but it sits beneath the stars... I don't know."  
  
Clarke smiled and nudged lexa's shoulder, but said nothing. Lexa felt her stomach flip when Clarke touched her, but said nothing.  
  
Clarke looked up. "Wow. I am always amazed at the stars you can see when there's no light pollution."  
  
"You know where it's even better?" Lexa asked quietly, working hard to hide a grin.  
  
"Siberia?"  
  
Lexa let out a laugh. It wasn't that funny, really. She didn't know why she was laughing. She drew a breath and for a heart stopping moment, she was afraid that Clarke was not laughing with her.  
  
But then Clarke was, and everything was okay.  
  
"What's with you and Siberia?" Clarke asked. "Really, is it that great?"  
  
"It's just amazing," Lexa said, trying to put into words what she was feeling. "There's so much space and it's absolutely beautiful; you can see the stars and mountains... and yet, nobody wants to live there."  
  
"Because it's a wasteland," Clarke laughed. "And populated with Russian exiles."  
  
"Are you always this pessimistic?"  
  
"It's not pessimism, it's just facts," Clarke said. "I am rarely pessimistic."  
  
"I believe it."  
  
The pair lapsed into silence again; the corn stalks crunching under their feet the only thing that sounded across the field. That, and the distant sound of a dog barking.  
  
"You have coyotes out here in the boonies?" Clarke joked.  
  
Lexa rolled her eyes. "That would be Schatzi."  
  
"Shotsie?"

Lexa grinned at her accent. "It's German. Sort of. Schatzi is my dog."  
  
"Big dog," Clarke said with the tiniest hint of caution.  
  
Lexa's heart sank. "Are you afraid of dogs?"  
  
"Not really," Clarke said. "I've just never had one. My mom forbid it,” she said with a hint of bitterness. "But my dad was in the military and I met those big service dogs when I was a kid. They looked scary, but they weren't."  
  
"That's how Schatzi is," said Lexa. "She's a military dog that flunked out of boot camp. Scary on the outside, big softy on the inside."  
  
Lexa bit her lower lip in thought, trying to decide how to approach the next subject. Clarke had never spoken much about her family before, and to Lexa's knowledge, she had never mentioned her father before.  
  
Plenty of her friends growing up had lost their fathers too. Occupational hazard. And when they lost their fathers, it usually meant they moved away and didn't come back.  
  
"What branch was your father in?"  
  
"Air Force," Clarke said.  
  
"Wow," Lexa said. "Very cool."  
  
"What branch was yours in?"  
  
"Army. Well, technically, still in," Lexa clarified, although she felt a little bad for doing so. "He's got a few years yet until he retires."  
  
"Damn," Clarke said, smiling a little sadly. "We're not supposed to like each other."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"Army? Air Force?" Clarke said, as if it were obvious. "Did they not teach you the rivalry in school?"  
  
"Oh," Lexa laughed. "I forgot about that."  
  
"How could you forget? I've been out of the force life for 10 years and I still remember." Clarke grew quiet. Lexa held the silence.  
  
"You know, this is the first time in a long time that I've talked about my dad. My mom and I don't really... Well. It's not a fun subject." Clarke laughed and wiped her cheeks. Was she crying? "I'm just unloading all kinds of things onto you tonight. I'm sorry."  
  
Lexa's heart ached for the girl, but her empathy was marred by a slight bitterness; she would like nothing more than to tell Clarke everything, but her walls stopped her from saying too much. She had already said too much. For now, it would have to be enough that Clarke trusted her enough to tell her these things.  
  
"I'm sorry to hear about your father," Lexa said, scuffing her shoes on the remainder of the corn stalks before the pair of them left the field to walk under the black branches of pine trees. She wished that she could say something else, but her words of wisdom were failing her.  
  
"Thank you for listening," Clarke said. She laughed, a hiccup of a laugh, behind almost-tears. "I'm afraid I haven't been very good company."  
  
Lexa just nudged Clarke's shoulder affectionately, trying to emit vibes of support. Lexa wasn't much one for 'vibes' and such, but Costia had been. And although Lexa had never admitted it to her, her positive energy had helped her constantly.  
  
_Can you see it, Tia? You're still with me._  
  
The pines were dark, blocking out all but shimmers of moonlight. Lexa knew her way, but Clarke did not. She stumbled on a root, yelped and fell into Lexa, grasping her upper arm to stay upright.  
  
Lexa grinned. "Sorry. It's not a long way to the house, I promise."  
  
Clarke nodded, her pupils wide in the low light and held her grip on Lexa. Lexa didn't mind.  
  
They came through the clearing and the house came into view.  
  
"Lexa," Clarke breathed, letting go of Lexa's arm. "This is so cool. You've got a barn and a porch and everything!"  
  
"I'm working on the barn," she said. "Trying to make it a gym space. And a bar."  
  
"Great combo," Clarke said sarcastically.  
  
"Not the healthiest, granted," Lexa said, making her way to the porch. "But fun. Can I get you a drink?"  
  
"What do you have?"  
  
"Beer, cider, vodka..."  
  
"Oh a _drink_ drink."  
  
"I have other things," Lexa said, backtracking quickly.  
  
"I'm joking," Clarke said, taking a seat on the porch swing. "A cider would be great."  
  
Lexa ducked inside to grab a cider. She entered the kitchen, ducking around the corner, and flattening her back against it. She leaned her head back, eyes closed, and breathed. It felt as though air was flooding her lungs. She hadn't realized how on edge she had been. Clarke made her... Nervous.  
  
_That's stupid,_ she thought. _I don't get nervous._  
  
_But you have been,_ said the voice in the back of her mind, _this whole evening you've been nervous in front of her. Nervous for her acceptance, nervous to hold her trust, and her hand..._  
  
Schatzi came over and woofed softly. "Hey girlie." She scratched the shepherd behind the ears. "What should I do? I'm in too far with this one." She knelt down and stared the dog in the eyes. Schatzi just stared back with a deep expression; solemn and calm. "You're a good girl." She gave the dog one last pat and stood back up, reaching towards the fridge before Clarke could wonder where she had gone.  
  
Clarke was sitting in the dark of the porch, just where Lexa had left her. Lexa handed her the cider, and opened the beer for herself. She had a bottle opener inside, but somehow it seemed cooler to open it by busting the top off on the corner of the porch.  
  
W _hy am I showing off? What am I, a 16-year-old-boy?_  
  
Clarke grinned like a star-struck high-schooler. "You're like, the cool, older girl at school with a hot boyfriend and way too many leather jackets. You don't ride a motorcycle, do you?"  
  
"Ha ha," Lexa said dryly, ducking her head and sitting beside Clarke. "Only one out of three. No motorcycle, no boyfriend."  
  
Clarke hummed knowingly and sipped her cider, but said nothing. Lexa's heart began to quicken--she had approached an awkward topic, one that had come up and subsequently been avoided earlier.  
  
She had not told Clarke that she was gay--never directly.  
  
Truth be told, Lexa had been out for years. But she hated talking about herself; it tended to ruin the mood--'good vibes,' as Costia would have said. It tended to ruin the good vibes, and this evening had quite a bit of potential yet. She didn't want to ruin it by talking about her sexuality. Or previous relationships. Or Syria.  
  
Clarke leaned back, setting the porch swing into motion. "This is so nice," she said quietly.  
  
"Less stressed now?" Lexa said. "I can see it in your eyes."  
  
Clarke looked her way. "Significantly."  
  
The blonde exhaled slowly and slumped into her seat. "How can you do that?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Read people like that. The eye thing."  
  
"I'm sure you could do it too, if you tried."  
  
Lexa didn't mean to say 'look into my eyes,' or 'try to read my soul right now,' but in a second -- and god, she was so unprepared -- Clarke was gazing at her intently.  
  
Lexa wanted to look away but she wouldn't let herself. Clarke's brow was furrowed--it was clear she was concentrating--but Lexa found that beyond that, she could not read Clarke. Clarke was, to put it simply, intoxicatingly distracting. Clarke's eyes burned into hers, as if they contained galaxies. It was all Lexa could do to keep her gaze--show no weakness, because lord, she was weak.  
  
"You're scared," Clarke said finally, and Lexa noted that she said it softly, kindly. "You're scared of something. It's the same darkness I saw when we met up at the diner."  
  
Lexa held her gaze, but did not deny her assessment. "Do you remember what I told you?"  
  
"You were scared that you were going to chase me away or something." And suddenly Clarke laughed, and all Lexa's fear disappeared, as mist is burned away by sunlight. "Lexa, I'm right here." Clarke reached out for Lexa's hand. "Don't be afraid of this. I'm not."  
  
Lexa took Clarke's hand, and together they sat, silently, listening to the wind in the black pines.  
  
Lexa hated to be the first one to break the silence, and to her credit, it was quite a long silence, but a confession was weighing on her heart and biting at her lips.  
  
"Clarke?" She said, her voice barely above a whisper.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"I have to tell you something, just so you know... Just so we're on the same... Same page."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Lexa took a shuddering breath and tried to pull her hand away from Clarke's. Clarke just held on tighter, seeking out Lexa's eyes. Lexa couldn't look at her.  
  
"I'm gay. I'm so sorry... I didn't want to be dishonest with you... I just... I'm sorry..."  
  
Lexa's eyes were shut in a wince. She waited for Clarke to pull her hand away, for an 'oh, shit, you've been flirting with me this entire time?! What the fuck! You take me all the way out here to the middle of nowhere--'  
  
"Lexa?" Clarke's voice brought her down to earth. "Hey..." Lexa felt Clarke brush a hand through her hair, tucking a tiny braid behind her ear. "Lexa, it's okay. It's okay."  
  
Lexa didn't open her eyes. She was afraid of the tears that might spill out if she did. She just kept her eyes closed and bit her lip and nodded.  
  
"Lexa, you can look at me," Clarke said, and her expression was almost pleading. "Look, I've cried in front of you tonight, it's okay." When Lexa continued to be stubborn, Clarke simply sighed and nestled her head against Lexa's shoulder. "The cider is making me sleepy."  
  
"If you want I can drive you home," Lexa said, without hesitation.  
  
"Also, Octavia already told me you were gay."  
  
"What?!" Lexa's eyes flew open in suprise. "When?"  
  
"Got you! Finally. You were freaking me out," Clarke laughed lightly. "It's fine, I figured as much. Octavia was just telling me soccer team rumors."  
  
"Clarke, I have been panicking this whole evening," Lexa said, trying to sound annoyed and failing. "No, this entire day. The entire day, Clarke." Lexa couldn't keep back her smile, although she kept blinking back tears. Clarke didn't hate her.  
  
_Clarke doesn't hate me._  
  
Clarke smiled gently. "I'm sorry that Octavia is a jerk. She shouldn't have outed you like that."  
  
Lexa shrugged. "I've been out since high school. She was only stating a fact."  
  
"Then what were you so worried about?"  
  
"Last night... At The Bunker... I tried to kiss you," Lexa said, frowning again. "I didn't want you to think that the only reason I was hanging out with you was so that I could hit on you."  
  
"So what is the real reason?" Clarke burrowed her head in Lexa's shoulder again. This time, Lexa leaned her head to rest on Clarke's as well.  
  
"I like spending time with you," Lexa said simply. _You're so... So easy to talk to. I feel like you understand me, I don't know quite how that's possible, but you do. And you're absolutely stunning..._ "it's not often I make new friends."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"People find me to be a... Strong personality."  
  
Clarke laughed. "I can't imagine that"  
  
"I hear your sarcasm."  
  
"I has nothing to do with the crazy amount of eyeliner you wear or your intense stares you give people," Clare said. "Or your posture. Seriously, how do you do that?"  
  
Lexa laughed. She felt Clarke yawn against her. "Seriously, you've had a long day. I can drive you back if you want."  
  
Clarke was silent. Lexa thought for a moment that she had fallen asleep, but then she answered. "What do you have to do tomorrow?"  
  
"Day off, so nothing?" Lexa said. "I was going to spar with my friend Anya or maybe play a pick-up game of soccer. Maybe work on the barn. Why, what do you have to do?"  
  
"Nothing..." Clarke muttered sleepily. "Could I just... Sleep on your couch? I don't want to be that person..."  
  
"Clarke? You're not being that person, but can you stay awake or do you need me to carry you?"  
  
Clarke nodded and mumbled something incoherent. Lexa shook her head, grinning. "Okay, let's go."  
  
She took Clarke by the hands and pulled her up off the porch swing. She put her hand around Clarke's waist and led her gently inside. They crossed through the kitchen and into the living room.  
  
"Move, Schatzi," Lexa muttered, nudging the dog out from under Clarke's feet.  
  
Clarke gestured to the living room. "Lexa... Bed..."  
  
Lexa shook her head. "I have a spare room made up upstairs."  
  
"I only need a couch," Clarke mumbled. "Really, you didn't have to do that."  
  
"It was already done."  
  
Clarke managed to pull herself together by the time they reached the stairs, which was good because Lexa was not planning on carrying her. Although she was perfectly able to, the idea terrified her for more than one reason.  
  
"Guest room is the first door," Lexa said once they reached the top of the stairs. She led Clarke into the room. "It's a bit old fashioned, but the bed is comfy at least."  
  
"This is wonderful," Clarke said, Her voice quiet but genuine. She sank down on the bed.  
  
"The bathroom is just across the hall. You have it to yourself, so use whatever you want," said Lexa. "Meinem Haus ist deinem Haus."  
  
Clarke giggled. "What does that mean?"  
  
"Me casa es su casa."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Lexa grinned. "My room is right down the hall, so if you need anything, knock." She left the room, and left Clarke to immediately fall asleep, which is what Clarke needed. The door was almost swung shut when she heard a small "Lexa?" She opened the door a crack.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thank you," she said. Her voice was soft and laden with sleep but her eyes told Lexa that she was genuine. "Seriously, thank you so much. For everything."  
  
Lexa only smiled softly. "Goodnight Clarke."  
  
"Goodnight."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your wonderful feedback:) I'm still having quite a bit of fun writing this.
> 
> Update: Also i hope all you readers enjoyed the special appearance by Clarence, who showed up randomly in the chapter....
> 
> Seriously, I'm typing this entire thing on my phone, and I try my best to catch the typos but sometimes auto-correct just gets me. So if Clarence shows up again or if Lexa suddenly becomes Lexis or something, let me know. :)


	13. Chapter 13

Clarke didn't come home.  
  
Raven woke up around 3 am, in part due to a terrible pain in her leg, and also because she had to use the bathroom. As she walked to the bathroom, she saw--no let's be real, she didn't notice anything on her way to the bathroom, she had to pee so bad-- but on her way back to her room, she noticed that Clarke's door was open. Clarke never slept with her door open.  
  
Raven walked in to investigate. Sure enough, no Clarke. She checked her phone for messages and finding none, she sent one.  
  
 **Sis:**  
Clarke, you okay?  
  
Raven walked back to her room and waited for a reply. She drifted off to sleep before a reply reached her. She shook herself awake and texted Octavia.  
  
 **Reyrez:**  
Did you hear from Clarke?  
  
Octavia on the other hand, responded promptly. Raven figured that she was awake in her room, browsing the internet or some shit. Octavia was a night owl, for sure.  
  
 **Octablake:**  
Omg no??? Did  
you???  
  
 **Reyrez:**  
No. Should we be  
worried?  
  
 **Octablake:**  
I'm fairly certain she  
went with Lexa.  
  
 **Reyrez:**  
Should we be  
worried???  
  
 **Octablake:**  
Hold on, I'm calling  
her.  
  
Raven waited; her eyelids that moments ago had been heavy as bricks would not rest. Raven had a vision of Clarke driving off road in a panic, lying spread-eagle like Finn, her head bleeding and arms twisted. She couldn't sleep until she heard from Clarke.  
  
Clarke was probably with Lexa, like Octavia said. Raven didn't like that idea much either, although it was thousands times better than her other scenario. Clarke usually remembered To text her housemates if she wasn't coming home. Radio silence was not a good sign.  
  
She didn't doubt that Lexa would take good care of her, really. But if she was with Lexa all night, why wouldn't she at least text someone? The silence irked Raven. _Why wouldn't she just let us know? Especially me._  
  
 _She knows I worry._  
  
Octavia knocked on her bedroom door. "Hey," she said gently before coming in.  
  
"Did you get a hold of her ?"  
  
Octavia shook her head. "She didn't pick up."  
  
Raven clenched her jaw and gripped her blankets tight. Octavia sat down beside her and began to run her shoulders in a light, circular motion.  
  
 _Clarke does this too, when I'm stressed._  
  
"I don't want to worry," Octavia began. "Clarke is probably fine."  
  
"But she might not be," Raven muttered. "She always calls."  
  
Octavia let out a long exhale. "I know." She got up off the bed. "You have to work tomorrow. I'm going to go drive around and make sure Clarke isn't in a ditch somewhere." Raven paled further at that and Octavia had to backtrack quickly. "Not that she would be. Just in case."  
  
"I'll come with you," Raven said. "I don't want you to have to drive alone at this hour."  
  
"Reyes, I've been playing Black Ops since I _went to bed,_ " Octavia air quoted, trying to get Raven to laugh, or at least smile. Raven did neither. "I think I'll be awake enough to drive around town. Also, the point of this is that you get to bed."  
  
Raven nodded and chewed on her bottom lip. _Have faith in Clarke..._ "I won't be able to sleep, you know that."  
  
Octavia sighed. "Do you remember Clarke before she came back from Afghanistan?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Remember how many times she went over to Finn's house without Abby knowing? And remember how everything turned out okay? She didn't call then either."  
  
"But we knew where she was," Raven argued. "This is different."  
  
Octavia stood again. "Try to sleep," she said, suddenly sounding tired. "I'll be back in an hour."  
  
Raven listened to Octavia go down the creaking steps and out the front door. She started her car. Raven heard it until it was down a few blocks. Octavia and her stupid, loud car.  
  
 _Was logic supposed to make me feel better?_  
  
Raven sat up, suddenly angry with herself for being so paranoid. _Clarke is an adult. She can make her own decisions. I need to stop treating her like a child._  
  
 _But she's your little sister,_ said another voice in her head. _You're supposed to worry. That's what siblings do._  
  
Raven didn't think this was a great idea, but she had nothing else to do so she texted the only person she could trust to at least somewhat understand.  
  
 _Octavia isn't an older sibling_ , she thought. _but her brother is._  
  
 **Raven:**  
Bell, you awake?  
  
It took mere moments for Bellamy Blake to respond. Thank god.  
  
 **Blake:**  
Unfortunately. What's  
up?  
  
Raven smiled in relief.  
  
 **Raven:**  
Clarke is AWOL, O  
went to look for her, I  
can't sleep because  
that's how I am now...  
  
 **Blake:**  
What do you mean  
Clarke is AWOL?  
  
 **Raven:**  
She went out with a  
friend. Didn't say where.  
Hasn't called.  
  
 **Blake** :  
Do you know this friend?  
  
 **Raven:**  
Not really. O knows her  
better. Played soccer for  
Polis or something.

  
**Blake:**  
I'm sure Clarke is fine.  
  
 **Raven:**  
I can't shake the feeling  
that something is wrong.  
  
 **Blake:**  
It's the accident talking.  
  
 **Raven:**  
Kinda blunt, don't you  
think?  
  
 **Blake:**  
I always call you out on  
your shit. That's why you  
texted, right? So I could  
talk you out of paranoia?  
  
 **Raven:**  
I texted you because I  
can't sleep.  
  
 **Blake:**  
And you want me to do  
what, exactly?  
  
 **Raven:**  
Bell.  
  
 **Bellamy:**  
Reyes.  
  
Raven bit her lip. This was her out. She could tell him never mind. She could forget this ever happened and go to bed before she made any bad decisions. Or...  
  
 **Raven:**  
Come over. We have  
an hour.  
  
 **Blake:**  
Challenge accepted.  
Be there in 5.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your wonderful feedback! I'll be back on Monday with another update :)


	14. Chapter 14

Octavia had been driving around for 45 minutes. No sign of Clarke.  
  
The night air was whipping her face as she drove through town with the top down. It had been thrilling at first, but the air was starting to lose its chill and Octavia was beginning to get sleepy.  
  
She watched the clock on her dashboard click to 4am and almost began to cry. _Why did I continue to play Black Ops? Why did I let those 12-year-old boys intimidate me? I should have told them to fuck off..._  
  
Her eyes were itching with tiredness by the time she pulled on to 5th street. It took her a moment to realize what he was seeing: Clarke's car was parked outside a diner. The diner's neon lights and chrome siding nearly blinded her, but Octavia knew her cars, and that was definitely Clarke's.  
  
Octavia knew that in all likelihood, Raven was not asleep. It would be another 10 minutes before she returned home, and every moment of sleep counts, so Octavia sent a text.  
  
**Octablake:**  
Found her car. She's  
still at the diner. Not  
in a ditch. Go to sleep.  
Be home in 10.  
  
Raven didn't reply on Octavia's way home. Octavia figured that she was asleep. Thank goodness.  
  
Octavia tried to come into he house as quietly as she could, but the floor was old and horribly creaky. She heard Raven move upstairs. She waited for Raven's voice but heard nothing. Shrugging it off, she headed to her own room and collapsed in the bed. 4:15. Damn it.  
  
She checked her phone one last time.  
  
**Reyrez:**  
Thanks for finding  
Clarke. You're the  
actual best.  
  
Octavia ignored that for the sole reason of not waking Raven up. She would talk to her in the morning.  
  
_Or the later morning..._ she thought grimly, thinking of the time.  
  
And one other message from Lincoln.  
  
**Bae:**  
A bunch of people  
are getting together  
for a pickup game  
at the park tomorrow  
at 2. Join us please?  
  
**Octavia:**  
Who is 'a bunch of  
people'? Also why  
aren't you asleep?  
  
**Bae:**  
Some Polis players,  
some Union players...  
all very good. Pls join.  
  
**Bae:**  
Also i just woke up.  
Idk.  
  
**Octavia:**  
I'm in, just don't text  
me anymore. I'm tired  
af.  
  
Octavia was drifting off to sleep when she heard the door downstairs open and shut. She figured that it must be Clarke, and felt a rush of annoyance that was quickly smothered by love for Clarke and also tiredness.  
  
She didn't hear Clarke come upstairs, but her ears were filled with a sound that sounded quite like ocean waves so she wouldn't have heard much anyway. She was asleep in a heartbeat.  
  
The next morning she woke up entirely too early to the sound of Raven barging into her room.  
  
"Where the hell is Clarke?" Raven demanded, pacing back and forth.  
  
"What time is it?" Octavia was still groggy from lack of sleep. She checked the clock on her bedside. 7am. What the actual hell.  
  
"Clarke isn't home," Raven said. She sounded more angry than paranoid.  
  
"What do you mean she's not home?" Octavia rubbed her eyes, desperately trying to wake up so she could care about the situation. "I swore I heard her come in right after I got home."  
  
Raven looked momentarily stunned. "Yeah...yeah me too," she said. "But she didn't." She turned on Octavia and glared.  
  
"Hey, woah, I only told you I saw her car at the diner." Octavia raised her arms defensively.  
  
"But did you go in? Did you actually see Clarke?"  
  
"Raven it was four in the fucking morning," Octavia said. "And besides, if she was with Lexa I didn't really want to walk into that."  
  
"She could have been abducted or something!" Raven said. "She could have not been in the diner at all. Now we still don't know where Clarke is!"  
  
"Raven," Octavia pleaded. "Please calm down."  
  
Raven took a breath and paused. "I have to go to work."  
  
"Do that. Please."  
  
"Please call Clarke. Call me when you find out what's up." Raven said on her way out.  
  
Octavia heard the front door slam and let out a groan. The three hours of sleep she had gotten was not nearly enough for her, but going back to sleep was not an option. She would be groggy the rest of the day, and she had to stay on her game for soccer this afternoon. Lincoln was bringing league players.  
  
She hovered over the call button on her cellphone. Clarke wasn't likely to be awake if she had been at the diner so late. Octavia decided to wait until later.  
  
So first, coffee.  
  
At quarter to 10, Lincoln came over for brunch. Octavia put away her history notes (Who studies on a Saturday anyway?) and went to help him in the kitchen. The menu of the day consisted of smoothies (the melons are in season) and omelets ("Got to have that protein before the game!" Lincoln insisted).  
  
"Is this game really going to be that intense?" Octavia asked, sipping her smoothie. "Don't you boys ever play for fun?"  
  
"Soccer is fun," Lincoln pointed out. "Being competitive is also fun."  
  
"True," Octavia said. "Very true."  
  
"I'm glad you're playing," Lincoln said. "There's a couple other girls coming to play so it should be a good mixed bag of people."  
  
"Do I know any of them?"  
  
"Probably not. It's usually an older crowd."  
  
"Sounds cool," Octavia said, and she meant it. She always enjoyed playing with more experienced players. The learning opportunities were endless.  
  
"So why were you up so late?" Lincoln asked.  
  
Octavia groaned. "Clarke. Shit." She dialed Clarke's number quickly, tapping her foot with impatience when Clarke didn't immediately pick up.  
  
"What the fuck." Octavia hung up after the fifth ring. "Why is she not answering?"  
  
"Is Clarke not home?" Lincoln glanced at the kitchen ceiling as if he could see through the walls and detect her roommate's presence.  
  
"No. She went out with a friend of hers-" Octavia put a weird emphasis on 'friend'- "-late last night and hadn't called to explain where she is or why she didn't come home."  
  
"That's a little rude, especially considering Raven..." Lincoln pondered.  
  
"Yeah," Octavia agreed. "Raven was a mess. I went out driving at like, three in the morning just so Raven would stop worrying. Why were you awake?"  
  
Lincoln shrugged. "I just woke up. I think it was the universe reminding me to text you."  
  
"So you didn't plan this soccer game at 4am?" Octavia joked. Lincoln shook his head. "Well, I'm not sure how well I'm going to play," Octavia admitted. "I didn't get much sleep. I might be cranky."  
  
Lincoln smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. "Channel the crankiness. Use it for good."  
  
Octavia laughed.  
  
They spent the rest of the morning relaxing, and when 1pm rolled around, they headed out, fully dressed in their soccer gear. Lincoln was sporting the blue and gold of the Union team, although he was not in official gear. Octavia wore her green and white Polis warmup shirt. It had a large 7 on the back underneath 'Blake'. She wanted people to recognize who she was; Captain of the Polis team.  
  
"Alright alright alright!" Lincoln gave Octavia a bump on the shoulder. "Get hype!"  
  
"Car or motorcycle?" Octavia gestured to the garage behind the house where her vehicles were kept. They were far too valuable to be kept on the street. Her housemates' cars, however, we're not.  
  
"Are you going to make me drive?"  
  
"Absolutely," said Octavia. "I'm sleep deprived, remember?"  
  
"Car, then," Lincoln said. "But I get to play my pre-game playlist."  
  
"No..." Octavia groaned. "Your playlist sucks..."  
  
"Taylor Swift is perfectly acceptable pump-up music."  
  
"I'm gonna need a source on that."  
  
"My teammates?"  
  
"I hope I'm not on your team."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"We're going to lose."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Lincoln is just a huge softie. 
> 
> Also, I think perhaps Raven is more concerned than she would be in cannon? I justify this by the fact that they are sisters--they have grown up together and been through some serious trauma together. I think that would be enough to make Raven a little paranoid.


	15. Chapter 15

Abby had paused in her day around 11 and sat down for some tea on the back porch. She had gardened all morning, clearing leaves from flower beds and moving stones to create some rock walls around the porch.  
  
As much as she didn't want to admit it, the gardening was making her feel a bit old-lady-like.  
  
She checked her cellphone and social media to purge some of the old feelings. She found that she had a voicemail from Raven. This was odd. Raven rarely called--she was the texting type. Abby had never minded that, but it did certainly heighten the importance of a phone call-- a voicemail nonetheless.  
  
She dialed her mailbox.  
  
 _"Hey... Abby, it's me. Just seeing how things are going, and wondering if you've heard from Clarke."_  
  
Clarke? She hadn't heard from Clarke. But the girls live together-- surely Octavia would be a better person to ask?  
  
 _"Octavia and I haven't heard from her since she went out last night. Octavia saw her car so she assures me she's not in a ditch somewhere, but I'm still concerned. I feel... Well... I feel dumb being this paranoid but... Yeah."_  
  
Abby felt for her foster daughter. Clarke was normally not this irresponsible. And Raven remembers all too well the last time Clarke decided to be irresponsible.  
  
But on the other hand, Clarke was a 25-year-old adult. Fully functioning adult.  
  
She called Raven back and left a voicemail.  
  
"Raven? Honey I know you're stressed, but try not to be. Clarke is probably fine. I know she's still your little sister, but she's a 25-year-old little sister. She can take care of herself. I know you're concerned, and I understand why. But trust me: everything will work out fine."  
  
It stuck Abby as she hung up, that those last words were the exact words she gave to Clarke after Jake was killed in combat.  
  
But Clarke wasn't in combat. She was likely safe and sound somewhere, without a care in the world.

 

* * *

  
Octavia and Lincoln arrived to the soccer game in style. Octavia grinned excitedly at her boyfriend, who was sporting aviators and jamming to backstreet boys. He was so ridiculous. Octavia even found herself singing along to Taylor Swift on his awful mix tape. She was feeling awake and alive. Ready to play and kick some ass.  
  
Lincoln introduced her to his Union buddies. They were just as intimidating as Octavia had imagined, and she was pleased about that. The game would be interesting, that's for sure.  
  
"So you're the Polis player everyone keeps talking about," said David, one of Lincoln's teammates. "I'm excited to see you play."  
  
"Likewise," Octavia said, unable to keep the grin off her face. "I'm so loving watching you guys play this season. Can't wait to share a field with you."  
  
"Aw yeah!" Said another Union player. "Get hype!"  
  
Octavia was hype. She was so hype. Nothing could bring her down from her state of hype.  
  
Until, right on cue, she spotted the girls from across the field.  
  
"Hell no," Octavia groaned. "You cannot be serious."  
  
"What? You know those girls?" Lincoln squinted in the sun. "Hey... Isn't that your housemate?"  
  
"Yes, it is," Octavia said through gritted teeth. She glared across the field at Clarke, hoping that her housemate could feel the anger in her gaze.  
  
Apparently, Clarke could not. The blonde waved at Octavia and walked over to meet her.  
  
"Octavia!" Said Clarke. "This is so crazy. It's like we run in the same circle now or something." She laughed, completely oblivious to the brunette's anger.  
  
"You play soccer now?" Octavia said dryly. She was not amused.  
  
"Not even a little bit." Clarke gestured over to where Lexa stood with another girl that Octavia didn't recognize. "I'm just here for moral support." Her brow furrowed, as if she just noticed Octavia's clenched jaw and scowl. "Something up?"  
  
"Clarke, I'm--" Octavia broke off, to annoyed to compose sentences. "Like, I'm genuinely curious, have you ever heard of a phone?"  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"I'm talking about last night," Octavia hissed, trying not to have a shouting match in the middle of the soccer field.  
  
"What about it?" Clarke said. "I told you I was going out. You figured it was with Lexa, and you were right."  
  
"You didn't call," Octavia said, exasperated. "You didn't call and tell us you weren't coming back. Raven, god, Raven, your crazy sister, was up panicking about it until who knows what time of the morning."  
  
"I had no idea." To her credit, Clark did look genuinely remorseful.  
  
"We called you like a dozen times,"Octavia stressed. "How is that possible?"  
  
"Shit," Clarke said, reaching into her purse. She retrieved her cellphone. "I got no service at Lexa's so I just stopped checking it. The battery is completely drained."  
  
Octavia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.  
  
"Octavia, I'm really sorry. Last night was really stressful, and-"  
  
"-for the both of us." Octavia sighed. "Now, I have a game to play. You better hope Lexa and I are on the same team."  
  
Clarke frowned, but said nothing.  
  
"We'll talk at home. And please call Raven."  
  
"My phone is dead."  
  
"Use your girlfriend's, then." Octavia didn't mean to sound so jaded. She didn't mean to use 'girlfriend' as a slur, it just came out. For a fraction of a moment, Octavia regretted it. But Clarke's face blanched, her eyes filled with panic, and Octavia found that very satisfying.  
  
She jogged away, glancing over her shoulder at the blonde, who stood rooted to the spot, wounded. She watched Clarke stand for a moment longer, then walked to join Lexa and her friend. Lexa looked immediately concerned at Clarke's expression. Clarke shook her head, remaining silent.  
  
Octavia felt a swell of pride at that. _That's right, bitch, you don't know everything._  
  
She saw Clarke procure Lexa's phone and dial Raven. She didn't look to be arguing with Raven, so Octavia assumed that she left a voicemail. Bummer. She wanted to witness that showdown, but from a distance, you know? Now they would be fighting at home, and Octavia would have to either join in or walk down the street to stay at Bellamy's place.  
  
"What's with the glare?" Said Lincoln, draping his arm around Octavia's shoulder.  
  
Octavia shook her head slowly in disbelief. "Clarke is meticulously careful. She always calls. Always."  
  
"Except when she's with Lexa," observed Lincoln.  
  
"What do you know about Lexa?" Octavia muttered to Lincoln, gazing over at the brunette who was watching Clarke exist through star stuck eyes.  
  
"Friend of Anya's," Lincoln began. "Ridiculously good at soccer. A little intense?"  
  
"You're not much help..."  
  
"I've only met her a few times off the field," Lincoln defended. "Anyway she's quite intent on Clarke, but it doesn't take a genius to figure that out. Is Clarke gay?"  
  
"Not ordinarily."  
  
Lincoln raised an eyebrow at Octavia. "Clarke is allowed to have other friends, you know. You guys are a scary-tight group but it doesn't mean you can't step outside the group. She didn't hate you for dating me, right?"  
  
"I know... It's just..." Octavia whined. "It's Clarke. She's, like, fragile."  
  
"That is never how I would chose to describe Clarke," Lincoln said. "But okay?"  
  
"You don't see her at home," Octavia pointed out. "Trust me. She's not the girl she was before the accident."  
  
"Hey!" One of Lincoln's Union buddies jogged over. "We're going to pick teams. Lincoln? You're a captain."  
  
"Who is the other captain?" Lincoln asked.  
  
"Walder," Lincoln's friend said. "She's from Polis. Crazy good."  
  
"Who decided these captains?" Octavia asked.  
  
"Well you two were over here having a secret powwow or something," the man joked. "There was a Rock Paper Scissors tournament."  
  
"How did I win if I wasn't there?" Lincoln deadpanned, not quite amused.  
  
"Joking, bro, we literally just nominated people."  
  
"You do know that Lexa's been off the Polis team for five years," Octavia pointed out.  
  
"She's still arguably the best player they've ever had," the man pointed out.  
  
"Arguably," said Octavia under her breath.   
  
Picking players for teams was oddly predictable. Lexa picked Anya and a few Union players, and Octavia quickly joined Lincoln's team. There was a coin toss--everyone liked to be super official, apparently--and the game began.  
  
Octavia was playing forward. She loved playing forward. In high school, she was always put on the back line, until her senior year when her team had gotten a new coach. The small transition had made a world of difference. It's the very reason she was playing for the Polis team.  
  
She met Lexa on the center line and glared at her. Under the competitive guise of soccer, perhaps Lexa wouldn't notice that Octavia was super pissed at her.  
  
 _Or maybe she would,_ Octavia noted as the ball started in motion. Lexa glared right back, deciding to trail her every move.  
  
"Alright 2.0," Lexa muttered as she ran passed Octavia. "Let's see what you got."  
  
Octavia did not appreciate the nickname. She was not, in any way, Lexa's second.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Clarke spread out a blanket on the grass and made herself comfortable. She was absolutely not a sports person, but watching soccer is something that she had become accustomed to doing over the years. She could even follow the game now.  
  
Watching a mixed field of guys and girls was exciting. The Union players kicked ass, obviously, but Clarke found herself watching Lexa more than any other player on the field.  
  
Lexa was... incredible. For whatever reason, Clarke had interpreted her intensity as a stiffness, but as she moved around the field, she was anything but rigid. She was light, quick, graceful. She matched Octavia stride for stride on the field, and Clarke knew that if Lexa had been in her prime, there would be absolutely no contest.  
  
Apparently, Octavia was beginning to realize this as well. After about the fifth time Lexa was able to move the ball passed her without a second glance, Lexa saw her jog back to have a word with Lincoln, who was playing keeper. Lincoln shrugged a little bit and laughed. He was a good sport, and besides, Lexa hadn't scored on him yet.  
  
It didn't take long for Lexa to score on Lincoln. Twice.  
  
Her teammates were beside themselves. One of the Union players gave her a hug around the neck, and her female friend Anya had tugged her braid affectionately. Clarke grinned. She wanted to cheer Lexa on, but she was already on thin ice with Octavia--she didn't want to make it worse.  
  
Octavia and Lincoln's team managed to even the score up before Lexa scored again. She let out a whoop of a Polis war cry, staring Octavia down, egging her on.  
  
Clarke bit her bottom lip. Octavia would not back down from a fight. This would not end well. She wished Lexa wouldn't irritate Octavia. Octavia could be brutal.  
  
_Then again,_ she thought as she witnessed Lexa slide-tackle a Union player, _Lexa could be brutal too._  
  
Clarke watched the ball go sky high and come down again. She watched Octavia and Lexa step forward simultaneously to get it. She watched both of them jump, and both of them collide, and both of them fall. And she watched only one of them get up.  
  
Octavia shook her head to clear it and kept running, chasing the ball. She didn't look behind her until a teammate of hers flagged her down.  
  
"Dude!" he yelled. "You okay?"  
  
Clarke's eyes, however, were on the motionless girl on the field. She had jumped to her feet as they both went down, and now stood at the edge of the field with bated breath, praying that Lexa would get up.  
  
T _his happens all the time, right? Soccer player go down all the time. And they usually bounce back... It's just taking Lexa a little longer._  
  
But she watched the player huddle around, she knew that wasn't right. Lexa's friend Anya dropped to her knees beside Lexa, and Lincoln motioned for Clarke to come over.  
  
Clarke was already on her way.  
  
Lexa was lying on her back, her legs sprawled out and her arms splayed loosely around her head, as if she was a child, hiding her face from the world.  
  
"Lexa?" Clarke heard Anya say. "Lex? What the fuck. Wake up!"  
  
Clarke dropped to her knees beside Anya. She eased lexa's arms away from her face. "Does anyone have cold water?" She said, her voice shaky.  
  
An arm handed her a bottle. "You a nurse or something?" The body attached to the arm said.  
  
"Close enough," Lincoln said.  
  
Someone had gone and fetched a towel, for Clarke suddenly felt one being pressed into her hands. With shaking hands she dampened the towel, praying that the lukewarm water would be enough to wake her. Clarke brushed back some of Lexa's hair, and drew the towel away stained with blood. Underneath Lexa's curls, right off her hairline, Clarke could make out some kind of cut.

"Shit," Clarke heard Octavia's voice from the crowd. "I didn't know I hit her that hard."  
  
Clarke swallowed hard, and kept trying to cool Lexa's burning skin. "Lexa?" She kept repeating over and over. "Lexa? Hey..." She couldn't think. She couldn't think of anything except logic. Statistics. How many head injuries resulted in concussions. How many concussions resulted in brain damage...  
  
"She's had worse than this," Anya growled in frustration. "Hey! Wake the fuck up!" She nudged Lexa's shoulder, with more force than Clarke would have liked.  
  
But whatever worked. Lexa opened her eyes, groaning at the sun or possibly the pain or possibly both. Probably both.  
  
Clarke almost cried in relief. "Lexa? Are you okay?"  
  
Lexa shut her eyes again. "I've had worse."  
  
"Told you," Anya muttered. "What the hell was that?"  
  
"No idea." Lexa shook her head and began to sit up. She glared at Octavia. "You've got a hard head."  
  
Octavia's jaw was set. Clarke could tell she was worried. "I've been told."  
  
"Ah well," Lexa said, clinging to Clarke's arm as she was helped to her feet. "Play on, right?"  
  
A few of the Union players nodded their agreement, but Clarke immediately vetoed it. "Absolutely no."  
  
"Clarke," Lexa gritted her teeth. "I have a reputation to uphold."  
  
"Have you noticed?" Clarke gestured to Lexa's head. "You're bleeding. I need to check for a concussion."  
  
Lexa rolled her eyes, but Clarke pleaded with her, silently. And one look at Clarke's eyes melted Lexa.  
  
"Whatever."  
  
The pair made their way to the sidelines where they sat on Lexa's blanket. "This is embarrassing," Lexa protested as Clarke held the damp towel against Lexa's bleeding skin. Clarke said nothing, worry still on her mind.  
  
"Your friend Octavia will love this," Lexa said bitterly.  
  
"You know she didn't try it," Clarke said curtly.  
  
"I know." Lexa sounded exhausted.  
  
Clarke handed Lexa the towel. She hoped whoever's it was didn't want it back. It was quickly turning red.  
  
"Do head wounds bleed this much?" Lexa mused, examining the towel.  
  
"Don't know, also, please keep that on your head? Pressure," Clarke ordered.  
  
"Yes ma'am," Lexa mocked.  
  
"And I thought you were the expert, miss 'I've had worse.'"  
  
"You're the doctor."  
  
"Quit being sassy and hold still." Clarke's fingers brushed Lexa's chin, guiding it to place Lexa's eyes right were Clarke could examine them.  
  
She felt Lexa's jaw clench shut and her breath hitch.  
  
Clarke stared into Lexa's eyes, brow furrowed in concentration. Concussions usually resulted in dilated pupils, and Lexa's--thank goodness--looked fine. Lexa's entire eyes looked fine. Clarke wondered if it was just the sunlight, or if Lexa's eyes we're always this vibrantly green.  
  
"Clarke?" Lexa said through gritted teeth. Clarke could see a blush rising to her cheeks. "Is this really necessary?"  
  
Clarke shook her head lightly and bit her bottom lip, trying to hide a blush which was threatening to match Lexa's. She quickly pulled her hand away from Lexa's chin.  
  
"Good news," Clarke said. "You're not concussed."  
  
"Thank god," said Lexa. "Am I cleared to play?"  
  
"Has your head stopped bleeding?"  
  
"Good lord, Clarke, my team needs me."  
  
"They're surviving..."  
  
"Clarke," Lexa leaned in close. "Seriously. I need to play. This is how I unwind."  
  
Clarke raised one eyebrow. "The only way you unwind?"  
  
Lexa flushed again and averted her eyes.  
  
"Oh god, Lexa, I wasn't trying to make it dirty."  
  
"It was the eyebrow," Lexa muttered, looking at the ground. "If you raise one eyebrow it looks suggestive."  
  
Clarke could only laugh.  
  
"Hey doc!" Anya yelled, jogging over to the sidelines. "Can we have Lex back?"  
  
Clarke turned to Lexa. "Lex?"  
  
"Don't get ideas... only Anya calls me that," Lexa said, checking her cut. "It's stopped bleeding." Lexa got up immediately.”  
  
"Wait--"  
  
"You're not stopping me, Griffin," Lexa said.  
  
Clarke rolled her eyes. "Fine. Just so you know? This isn't doctor recommended."  
  
"You're not a doctor!" Lexa called over her shoulder as she jogged away.  
  
Clarke shook her head as she watched the brunette jog back onto the field. Unwinding? Really? She was going to stare into Lexa's eyes and then talk to her about unwinding?  
  
To be fair, Clarke had been thinking about last night at the diner. That was unwinding, or so Clarke thought.  
  
_Maybe Lexa requires a little...more?_ Clarke thought, and was surprised at how crushing that little thought was. _Maybe I'm just to mild for her. She is a citizen of the world, after all._   
  
Clarke watched Anya and Lexa high five after a particularly good play. It struck her in that moment how--to put it simply-- _cool_ Lexa was. Clarke had always known this, but she finally realized. On the field, Lexa was a goddess. She was a jock... A rich, multilingual jock that dressed perfectly and always winged her eyeliner.  
  
_Why on earth is she hanging out with me? What can I possibly offer her?_   
  
And Clarke felt a bit sad, until she thought back to the previous night. She had opened herself up to Lexa, and found acceptance. And Lexa had done the same. There seemed to be a mutual understanding between the two girls. And so as Clarke sat on the sidelines, and Lexa scored her third goal that game ( _That's called a hat trick, right?_ ) Clarke found comfort in knowing that though they each existed in two different worlds, they seemed to beat to the same drum.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoever wanted a Clarke POV chapter, you got it! 
> 
> Cheers for the reviews, guys. You all are wonderful :)


	17. Chapter 17

Octavia gave Clarke a ride to the diner to pick up her car.  
  
The game had ended with a 6-5 score. Lexa's team won, but Octavia didn't feel too badly--any person who played on after an injury like that deserved props. Lexa had still been bleeding and as she played; blood had run down and stained her grey jersey.  
  
Anya had high-fived her. Clarke had been ready to kill her. Both Lexa and Octavia had laughed at that.  
  
It was odd, really, that the collision had given them a chance at friendship.  
  
Whether it was the soccer playing, the heat of the day, or simply Clarke acting like her old, cheery self, Octavia found that her anger and frustration had simply melted away. When Clarke tried to apologize on the ride back to the diner, Octavia simply stopped her.  
  
"Save it for Raven," she said. "I'm mellowed."  
  
"Lexa says soccer is good for unwinding."  
  
"That, it is."  
  
Clarke's car was still sitting at the diner, mercifully untouched. Small town perks.  
  
"Thanks, O," Clarke said getting out of the car. "I'll see you at home."  
  
Octavia sighed in frustration as Clarke started her car. With an impending fight looming overhead, she did not particularly want to be at home. She could go to Bellamy's... Or...  
  
Perhaps it was because she was a girl who had not fully outgrown her teenage tendencies, but part of Octavia yearned for some drama. Siting at home watching the sisters fight would be nothing short of entertaining, and because she didn't have any part in this, possibly hilarious.  
  
She realized that Clarke was going to follow her home, and her mind was made up.  
  
At home, Clarke would not get out of her car. Octavia had taken her time parking her own car, and fully expected Clarke to be inside by the time she was done. Seeing that she was not, Octavia crossed to Clarke's car, parked on the street, and tapped on the window until Clarke rolled it down.  
  
"Go inside."  
  
Clarke groaned. "She's going to fight me."  
  
"Then fight her right back."  
  
"I don't want to."  
  
"Hopefully she'll realize that."  
  
Clarke sighed but finally shut off her car and stepped out. "You're not helpful, you know that?"  
  
"At least I'm a neutral character here," Octavia defended. "This saga could have gotten epic if I had decided to still be mad at you."  
  
"Epic saga?" Clarke fumbled with the door. "I hate you."  
  
Octavia laughed. The door swung open. She heard a cabinet shut which meant that Raven was in the kitchen.

"Rey!" Octavia shouted. "I found Clarke!"  
  
She heard Raven fall still. She watched Clarke carefully, but Clarke's expression remained the same. She heard the scrape of Raven's leg brace against the cabinet, and Clarke flinched.  
  
Raven exited the kitchen. She looked at Clarke for a moment with narrowed eyes. Clarke held her gaze.  
  
"Okay first of all, I'm glad you're home and safe," Raven began. Octavia could hear that she was struggling to keep her voice level. "And I love you a lot."  
  
"I love you too, Raven." Clarke's voice was strained too, Octavia noticed, but somehow it sounded more convincing, as if Clarke had more practice at keeping appearances together.  
  
_Or was just better at it..._  
  
"Okay, cool, also, I'm just going to dive right in now because honestly," Raven have a small, cheerless laugh, “W _hat the fuck was that?!_ You always call, Clarke, always. You always let me know where you're at, because god forbid something happen to you."  
  
Octavia made her way, unnoticed, to the stairs. She perched, out of dodge and with the perfect vantage point to watch the fighting. Raven was just getting started. Clarke's arms were crossed in front of her defensively.  
  
"You know I get stressed out with this shit," Raven said. "And you know why. That's--I think that's what's really so frustrating, you know why... and yet you still take off in the middle of the night, with a practical stranger, don't return for hours and don't answer your phone?"  
  
"Lexa's not a stranger."  
  
"She is to me! And be real Clarke, how long have you known her? A month? Two, tops?" Clarke remained silent. Raven shook her head. "What you did last night? That's called being reckless. Remember what happened the last time you decided to be reckless?"  
  
"Raven, I--"  
  
"Clarke, you know I worry. You know I stress out about this kind of thing. And you have a cellphone. How hard is it to send a text?"  
  
Most if the fire seemed to have gone out from Raven's eyes. Clarke's turn.  
  
"Raven, I just need to explain."  
  
"Explain away, my friend."  
  
"At the hospital last night..." Clarke broke off and shook her head. "Do you ever have days where you feel normal? And everything is okay and you feel like all the shit that happened the past few years just... Didn't happen? Like everything is fine?" Raven looked mildly confused, but not entirely foreign to the concept. Where was Clarke going with this?  
  
"And then something happens out of the blue. Totally unexpected. And you're right back to where you were, unable to push the past out of your mind. And it swallows you up."  
  
"That's very poetic, Clarke," Raven said, sarcastically, but not entirely unkindly.  
  
Clarke ignored her. "Yesterday, I had two teenage boys come into the ER. Car crash. I couldn't help but think..." Clarke shook her head, as if ridding herself of bad memories. Raven shifted her gaze to Clarke's feet. "I had a panic attack in the middle of my shift. They sent me home early. I felt ridiculous."  
  
"Why does this have to do with calling us?" Raven seemed relatively unphased by Clarke's admission, but Octavia didn't think Clarke had been expecting pity. Regardless, Octavia felt a little sorry for her.  
  
"It doesn't," Clarke said bluntly. "But I needed to not be here afterward."  
  
"Why?" said Raven. "You could have talked to us. We know you better than anyone. I would have fucking made you tea or something."  
  
"That's the problem, though."  
  
"You don't like tea?"  
  
"You both know me too well."  
  
Octavia frowned. Her neutral position had just been compromised. She shot Clarke a warning glance. _Don't drag me into this..._  
  
"And why is that a bad thing, exactly?" Raven crossed her arms, sure that she had just won the argument. Octavia had to agree with her. Since when were friends a bad thing? "You don't want to be around us because we know you too well? Because we know what makes you feel better? What to say when you're down? You don't want to be here because we care too much?" Raven Reyes rarely whined, but her voice was pained as she finished speaking, as if the thought physically ailed her.  
  
"I love that you guys care," Clarke said, trying to ease the blow. "But honestly? You treat me like I'm fragile."  
  
"Because you are."  
  
Octavia tried. She really tried to stay removed from the drama of the evening. But she simply could not sit back any longer.  
  
Clarke turned to her, looking wounded. "What?"  
  
Octavia rose from her seat on the stairs. "You are fragile, Clarke. You're not the girl you used to be. Not that I'm blaming you," she said. "If I had been through the same stuff I would be all kinds of messed up. But it's a fact--you are breakable."  
  
"I'm not that different--"  
  
"Do you think we don't hear you crying at night?"  
  
Clarke's face paled and she curled her fists into balls. Octavia had struck a nerve.  
  
"This is the problem," Clarke said, each word spat as if it were made of daggers. "Exactly this here. You always compare me to my past self. 'Remember when Clarke used to be cool? Remember her before she suffered that pesky trauma?'"  
  
"We don't recognize you anymore!" Raven shouted. "You're my sister and I don't know you anymore. I haven't for years."  
  
"Screw you, Raven!" Clarke spat. "You went through this shit with me. You of all people should get it."  
  
"Which is why you should fucking talk to me!" Raven threw her hands up in exasperation.  
  
They had come full-circle. Clarke sighed, running her hands through her hair. "I'm sorry. Really. But I can't do this right now." Clarke left the room, brushing her way past Octavia and storming upstairs where she slammed her bedroom door shut.  
  
Octavia glanced at Raven, who was also looking quite distraught. "That got real, _real_ quick," Octavia said, sitting on the couch.  
  
"No thanks to you," Raven said bitterly. She sat down beside Octavia. "You were a little harsh, don't you think?"  
  
"Exactly my point," Octavia said pointedly. "You think she's fragile too."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for all the lovely reviews! I'm so thrilled that people are enjoying the story so far. Once again, I apologize for any errors. I typed this entire thing on my phone, and while I do edit afterwards, some things simply escape my eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

Lexa had showered after the game and was just sitting down to a post-game smoothie with Anya when she got a text.  
  
 **Clarke:**  
Hey. What are you  
up to this evening?  
  
"Who's that?" Anya said, trying to disguise her interest.  
  
"Clarke," Lexa said, trying to disguise her interest.  
  
 **Lexa:**  
Nothing much.  
Yourself?  
  
It took mere seconds for Clarke to respond.  
  
 **Clarke:**  
Want to go out?  
  
Lexa's eyebrows shot up. She was surprised that her surprise was not audibly exclaimed.  
  
"What?" Any pressed. "What did she say?"  
  
"She wants to go out," Lexa said, simply stunned. "With me. Tonight."  
  
"Like, a date?" Anya grinned, her excitement over her friend's life-drama all too evident.  
  
Lexa shook her head. "I doubt it. She probably just meant it like, a girls night out or something."  
  
Anya gave Lexa an expectant look. "Coming off the last few days? Wouldn't surprise me if she meant something more."  
  
Lexa bit her lower lip. She just wasn't sure. And anyway it was far better to not assume that Clarke had interest in her. It would save her lots of pain down the road.  
  
"Well, text her back, idiot," Anya said. “Clarke's a nice girl.”  
  
Lexa shook her head. "It doesn't mean anything. And besides, I'm here with you now."  
  
"Who cares?" Anya gave a small laugh. "I saw the way you look at Clarke. She's a wonderful girl." She put her hand on Lexa, forcing her to make eye contact. "This could be the start of something."  
  
Perhaps it was the habit that Lexa had formed over the years--of listening to Anya's inspirational words--or perhaps it was because Lexa truly believed it, but she texted Clarke back, agreeing.  
  
 **Lexa:**  
What did you  
have in mind?  
  
Exactly one and a half hours later, Lexa stood outside of The Bunker, waiting for Clarke. She was wearing slightly more than her typical 'I'm going out' clothing, and she wasn't going to lie to herself. It was to impress Clarke Griffin.  
  
A man brushed passed her as she waited, leaned up against the brick exterior.  
  
"Ayy mami!" He called at her. Lexa rolled her eyes and did not respond.  
  
"Hey!" he came up to her. Lexa did her best to glare at him, hoping that she looked intimidating enough in her black dress and killer eyeliner. "I was talking to you!"  
  
Lexa looked he man up and down. He wasn't dressed well, and appeared to be drunk. His hair was close-cropped, and he had an aggressive jawline and small eyes which made him look like a bulldog. She simply shrugged. He wasn't worth another glance from her.  
  
The man was visibly insulted. He puffed out his chest indignantly. "You trying to start something?"  
  
Lexa scoffed. Didn't this boy's mother ever teach him it was impolite to fight girls? She said nothing though. It was entertaining to watch the drunk man try to decide what to do.  
  
Lexa believed that he had actually decided to fight her--he was balling up his fists, and oh man, was she more than ready--when a familiar voice called her name.  
  
"Lexa!" Clarke said, a note of franticness in her voice.  
  
Lexa gave the man one last exasperated look before leaving her post on the wall and straight-up walking away without a backwards glance.  
  
Clarke's eyes gave away that the man was following behind her. Lexa frowned, more concerned that the man _not_ get to Clarke than she was for her own well-being. _He could_ not _get to Clarke._  
  
She felt the grip of a hand on her shoulder. "You're a bitch. Who's your friend?" The man slurred. Lexa turned around.  
  
"I swear, you go near her, and I will fucking end you," Lexa growled through gritted teeth. She prayed that Clarke could not hear her being so aggressive.

The heat of Lexa's gaze must have finally gotten through to the man, because he took his hand off Lexa's shoulder and backed up defensively.  
  
"I believe you, fucking bitch."  
  
Lexa raised her eyebrows at the man as he retreated. "That's me. Say it again."  
  
"You fucking bitch!" The man yelled as he retreated into the dark street, finally turning away from the girls. Lexa felt a glow of victory. That had been far too easy.  
  
"What did you say to him?" Clarke had come over to her, concern written over her face.  
  
Lexa shrugged. "He was quite drunk, I believe." She turned to Clarke. "How are you?"  
  
"Ready to get shitfaced, honestly." At least she was honest... "How's your head?"  
  
"Hurts a little," Lexa brushed it off as if it were nothing.  
  
"I can't believe you walked away from that," Clarke said as they walked to the bar downstairs. "I was scared for you."  
  
Lexa's heart swelled with the sole fact that Clarke cared about her.  
  
They were carded at the door, and entered The Bunker. The basement bar was a favorite of college kids, but tonight seemed to be a slightly older crowd.  
  
"You look amazing, by the way," Clarke said over the loud music in the bar.  
  
"Better than a soccer uniform?" Lexa joked, a small grin on her lips.  
  
Clarke made her way to the bar. "You looked pretty great in that too." She leaned in to order a drink, thank god, because Lexa was blushing furiously. Damn it, Clarke...  
  
Clarke turned away from the bar holding two shots.  
  
"Two to start?" Lexa said. "I'm impressed."  
  
"Oh come on, Lexa," Clarke sounded mildly exasperated. "This one's for you."  
  
Lexa didn't even question what it was that she was about to drink. She didn't even stop to question why Clarke wanted to get wasted in the first place, and she definitely didn't stop to keep her own feelings in check. She just toasted Clarke and took the shot. Like Anya said, this could be the start of something.  
  
Approximately one hour later, Clarke and Lexa sat on a couch in the corner of the bar, by the pool table. Clarke was completely hammered. They had had about the same amount to drink, but Clarke was a lightweight.  
  
Lexa definitely wasn't sober by any means, but at least she could still speak clearly. Sloppy drinkers usually bothered Lexa, but Clarke's slurring was actually adorable.  
  
"Lekkssaa..." Clarke said, giggling at the way Lexa's name rolled off her tongue. "Wanna play pool?"  
  
"You can hardly stand," Lexa pointed out, causing Clarke to burst into giggles again.  
  
"I'd still kick your ass though," Clarke said, leaning up against Lexa affectionately.  
  
Lexa seriously could not believe that Clarke had gotten this drunk in just one hour. But as she broke out in goosebumps at Clarke's touch, she really could not complain. Clarke's head was buried in her shoulder and her hands reached to clasp lexa's. Clarke stroked her thumb over the back of Lexa's hand. Lexa shivered.  
  
"You okay?" Clarke drew away, seeming to sober up in the moment. Lexa cringed inwardly. Clarke had mistaken Lexa's shiver for a shudder of discomfort.  
  
"I'm fine..." Lexa murmured, the alcohol making her head swim. _Or maybe it was Clarke, staring at her._ "I'm absolutely fine."  
  
Clarke smiled widely and pressed her forehead to Lexa's. "It's just...?" She prompted.  
  
Lexa smiled a small smile back. Clarke was so close. Her lips were so close and yet... "You're intoxicating."  
  
Clarke drew away again and wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Rude, Lexa, I'm drunk but not _that_ drunk."  
  
Lexa laughed. " _Ing_ , Clarke. Intoxicating. You know," she leaned her forehead in again to meet Clarke's. "Lovely," she breathed against Clarke's cheek.  
  
She felt Clarke shiver beneath her, which caused the air to be sucked from Lexa's lungs as if they had been crushed. _Holy shit._  
  
"Want to go somewhere?" Clarke asked, her eyes closed against the spinning of the world. Her head dropped slightly, her breath warm on Lexa's neck.  
  
Lexa nodded, afraid that her voice would come out as an embarrassing whimper. Somehow, Clarke got the message.  
  
They stumbles out of the bar five minutes later, Clarke leaning heavily on Lexa as she walked up the stairs.  
  
On solid ground, they linked arms and began to walk in a direction--Lexa wasn't quite sure where.

"Where are you parked?" Clarke asked, sounding as if she were desperately trying to focus on something.  
  
"I didn't drive here," Lexa explained slowly, as if she were only just realizing it herself.  
  
Clarke laughed, doubling over and stumbling as a result. Lexa had to catch her, which made Clarke laugh harder.  
  
"Oh my god..." She gasped. "You have to come over. How are you going to get home?" She wiped her eyes, getting rid of hysterical tears. "You'll have stay until I get sober."  
  
"I'll be there forever," Lexa teased.  
  
"I won't complain." Clarke grinned and took Lexa by the hand.  
  
 _Oh my god,_ Lexa thought. _It's starting. Anya was right._  
  
They had walked several blocks by now and were starting to sober up. Well, Lexa was anyway. Clarke was still well trashed.

"Lexa," she whispered. "That's my house," she said, pointing to a grey house on the corner of the next street. "It's like, small and stuff."  
  
"Why are you whispering?" Lexa whispered, a giggle nearly escaping her lips.  
  
"Lexa!" Clarke exclaimed in mock shock. "I have neighbors. And housemates," she said. Lexa noted the bitterness in her voice.  
  
"Trouble in the home?"  
  
Clarke shrugged.  
  
"Is that why you went out tonight?"  
  
Clarke shrugged again. She really didn't want to speak.  
  
"And got completely smashed?"  
  
Clarke nudged Lexa with her shoulder. "Don't tease me," she said, "I'm not that drunk."  
  
They had reached the house. Clarke looked expectantly at Lexa, gesturing to the front door. "You're welcome to come in if you want. We just have to keep it down." Clarke was sounding much more sober, but even still, Lexa doubted her ability to not wake up her housemates. If Clarke and her friends were in a fight, the last thing she would want is to get in the middle of it, although she had a sneaky suspicion that she already was.  
  
"Maybe we should just stay on the porch," Lexa suggested, trying to be helpful. The night was nice, and Lexa did not want to leave right away anyway.  
  
"Good call," Clarke mumbled, sitting hard on the porch step. "Ow," she giggled. Lexa sat down with much more grace beside her. She yawned; the alcohol was making her sleepy. Plus this was, what, the third late night with Clarke in three days? According to Clarke, this wasn't normal behavior for her. Unwinding was good; partying to ignore other problems was not.  
  
 _Was Clarke okay?  
_  
The blonde leaned her head on Lexa's shoulder and let out a sigh. Lexa pondered her previous thought, which was a more troubling thought than she had expected to have on a night like this. She knew of Clarke's history with the car crash. She knew that when those memories were triggered, that things went south for Clarke. But on a day-to-day basis, Clarke was surrounded by people who loved her, who cared about her. She had a gentle smile that could make even Lexa smile back.  
  
But was she okay?  
  
"Thanks for coming out with me," Clarke said, sounding as drunk as before. "I know it's been happening a _lot_ lately and I hope you're having fun."  
  
"I am," Lexa said simply. Clarke turned and smiled at her, and Lexa looked carefully at her.  
  
 _It's not in her eyes... her smile... it's not--_  
  
"Good, because Lexa, damn my housemates are frustrating," she giggled, but it was a bitter sort of giggle and it left a bad taste in Lexa's mouth. She bit her lip.  
  
"But you're much better," Clarke breathed, her nose brushing Lexa's cheek. Lexa screwed her eyes shut. This would be so perfect. This would be so damn perfect except....  
  
"They think I'm wrong," Clarke said, planting a gentle kiss on Lexa's cheek. "But I'm not. I'll show them I'm not wrong..." Clarke's lips brushed the corner of Lexa's mouth; begging, asking for permission. Lexa felt tears start to well up in her eyes. She blinked them open, despite it. Lexa pulled away from Clarke, feeling the warmth between them evaporate quickly until Lexa was cold. She was on her feet in a moment.  
  
Clarke looked at Lexa with wounded eyes. "Lexa..."  
  
"I'm sorry Clarke," she said, and she truly meant it . Her heart broke for the girl in front of her.  
  
"Lexa," Clarke tried to smile. "Lexa I didn't mean it, come on..."  
  
"I can't, Clarke." Lexa didn't quite know how to explain herself. By all accounts she should be quite happy. Clarke was here, she was here, and... what? Clarke was using her as a weapon against her roommates? "I'm sorry Clarke," she said again. "It's not fair."  
  
"What's not fair?" Clarke said, rising to her feet as well. "I thought you... Don't you want this?"  
  
"I do, Clarke." Lexa could feel her heart growing heavy. She didn't want to push Clarke away. She wanted nothing more than to sit back down and let Clarke kiss her and kiss her over and over. But not like this.  
  
"But not like this."  
  
Clarke was silent, stunned, trying to figure out what Lexa meant.  
  
"You're angry," Lexa began, trying to clarify as best as she could. "You're spiteful and you're only kissing me because you're bitter at your roommates and I'm not them." Lexa licked her lips, her mouth suddenly very dry. "I don't want to be 'not' somebody. I don't want to be negative space."  
  
"Lexa?" Clarke was pleading, begging.  
  
"Call me in the morning if you want," Lexa said, retreating from the house. "You need to sleep. I hope that you will see this clearly in the morning."  
  
And Lexa turned away from the house, walking down the block and out of sight of the house. She didn't look back. Leaving Clarke felt a bit like leaving a puppy at home when you went off to work. _In the end, it's better for the puppy,_ Lexa reminded herself. _Clarke needs to sort things out. I do not want to be put between her and her best friends._  
  
But as she stood for a cab alone in the dark, Lexa couldn't help but regret her decision. Clarke had been warm. Clarke had been soft and safe and adoring. And Lexa was simply cold and alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fighting :(
> 
> I know I say this a lot but I truely mean it-- Thank you!!!! so much for all for the lovely comments. I absolutely loved the discussion that people got going on the last chapter :)
> 
> Also thank you for your patience. I started a full-time job recently and the added mental processes really killed my writing vibe. Not to fret: I'll be back at it in full force soon.


	19. Chapter 19

Clarke didn't call Lexa the next morning. She woke in her bed, fully clothed, her cheeks marked with mascara trails. She had fallen asleep crying and drunk. How pathetic.

She sat up, immediately regretting her decision; her head was pounding and she swayed--dizzy. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and exhaled a long, low breath, tears welling in her eyes again. She heard the silence of the house and was hit with the realization that she was alone. Completely, utterly alone.

_Fragile._ Her housemates, her best friends did not want to be around her. And last night, she had managed to chase Lexa away. Lexa, who wanted nothing more than to be with her, who she had treated like a second choice.

What the fuck was wrong with her?

She sat, head in her hands, breathing deeply to avoid getting sick or crying again. Panic rose in her chest as she tried to squash the feelings of utter despair that were rising to the surface. Panic because she was totally, completely, alone. She didn't need advice, or anything big, really, but holy shit, she needed a hug. But there was no one around to do that, so Clarke simply cried. And cried, and let herself cry.

Sundays. Good for crying.

She cried until her stomach felt sick, then slowly composed herself.

_Come on, Princess. Get yourself together._

She made her way downstairs to the kitchen, looking to make some tea. Fucking tea. She was such a coffee person, but having tea after a cry always felt... cathartic. And lately, her roommates were right, she had been crying a lot.

She just wished, more than anything, that she could push the weight off her chest. The memory of Finn, the guilt, felt like a stone, crushing her bones, drowning her slowly. And the past few weeks, it had actually felt like her face was above the water.

Clarke couldn't tell if it had been Lexa, or the alcohol, or simply time.

_"I don't want to be 'not' somebody. I don't want to be negative space."_

The words haunted her, ringing around her brain, which was impressive considering her state the previous evening. She remembered them as if they were etched in stone, and the stones were weighing on her too.

It was all too much. She sat down at the kitchen table, stirring her tea absently. She felt the urge to talk to someone. Someone who would listen, not lecture, someone who knew her well enough and someone who would not judge her. Really, when it came down to it, she wanted to talk to her father.

Her mother was the next best thing. Their relationship wasn't perfect, but at least she wasn't Raven or Octavia or Lexa. She wasn't currently in a fight with her mother.

It took only a moment for her mind to be made up and her phone to be ringing.

"Hi mom," said Clarke. She was suddenly fully aware of how horrible she sounded; her voice was scratchy from the crying and simply rough from partying.

"Clarke...?" Abby had snapped into instant mom mode. Concerned. Clarke didn't blame her. She knew she sounded horrible. "What's going on?"

Her mom had always been quite a straight-forward person, so Clarke cut right to the chase. "I'm in a fight with my housemates," she said. "And I put Lexa in the middle of it accidentally, and I... I don't know. I don't know how things got so wrong."

"What are you fighting about?" Abby said. "Is this about the other night? Why you didn't call them?"

"They called you?!" Clarke said incredulously.

"Raven did," Abby corrected. "Yes. Clarke, she's your family. She gets concerned about you."

Clarke groaned. She couldn't believe Raven would drag her mom into this. "Yeah," she admitted. "The fight is sort of about that. Mostly about me. They 'don't know me anymore,' or whatever." Clarke was bitter. "They think I'm damaged--fragile. They treat me differently."

"And this is just now coming up in conversation?" Abby said. "Clarke, honey, they've been treating you differently ever since the accident. You just haven't noticed."

Clarke opened her mouth to dispute it, then closed it. The group dynamic had changed. Everyone blamed Clarke for the death of Finn and raven's permanent injury, they just never said it out loud. Well, Raven had said it out loud, but Raven was a special case.

"But Raven?" Clarke said, finding her arguing point. "Raven went through everything with me. I can't understand why she's being like this."

"Raven is scared, Clarke," Abby said. "She's scared of losing you too."

"It's not likely that I'll die in a car crash," Clarke said, even though her brains told her otherwise every time she got in the car.

"I mean, she's scared of losing you. To Lexa."

"What?!" Clarke was amazed. "I didn't think Lexa was even on her radar!"

"Honey, you're been spending so much time with her," Abby said, sounding surprisingly sympathetic. "And they're not blind. You're not yourself when you're around her."

"What do you mean?" Clarke said, beginning to feel defensive.

"You never were a partier," Abby explained, again, sounding so sympathetic that Clarke began to get annoyed. "That's all you've been doing around Lexa."

"Not true," Clarke said, "I--"

"No, Clarke," Abby said firmly. "You haven't been yourself. The partying, the drinking... You've hardly spoken to me--"

"That's not different," Clarke muttered.

"You don't communicate with your friends," Abby continued as if she hadn't heard her. "Tell me, when's the last time you've seen Bellamy? Jasper?"

"They've both got girlfriends," Clarke pointed out. "Or something. Nobody's seen them."

"Oh, that's nice, have you met the girls?"

"No, I--"

"Clarke, they're your friends," Abby said. "Remember all they've done for you in the past. You guys are a _family."_

"Guilting me is not helping." Clarke was beginning to get frustrated. "I haven't known Lexa as long, but she's done a lot for me."

"Like what?"

"Being around Lexa is the only time where I feel like myself." Clarke said, her voice quiet and solemn. "Like myself before accident."

Abby was silent, unable to think of a response. Clarke thought perhaps she had won, but;

"That's not what it looks like to everyone else."

So it was about appearances. Clarke let out a long exhale and hung her head. There was no point arguing with her mom. Her mother could never accept change, even when Clarke had been a child.

When Clarke was five, she told her mom she wanted to be a doctor. By 15, she wanted to be an artist. Her mom never accepted that.

"I'll try to do better," Clarke surrendered. There really was no point in arguing. Her mom didn't understand the logic behind Clarke and Lexa.

Clarke and Lexa. That's a thought.

"I don't really want to lose them either." And that part was true, but she didn't see why she couldn't just do both.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dudes! Thanks for bearing with me. You all are the dang best:)


	20. Chapter 20

Anya had been awake since the early morning. Her day had started off quite predictably--a breakfast smoothie, a trip to the gym, and a long shower. She was well on her way to having a perfectly ordinary day.

And then she received a text. From Clarke.

**Clarke:**  
hey Anya, it's Clarke.  
I don't know if you'd  
be up for it, but I could  
use some help sorting  
through some thoughts  
and I would really love  
your help. But if not, it's  
ok

Anya was momentarily stunned. She had given Clarke her number at the game yesterday afternoon, so it's not as if the text was not welcome, it was just.... _What?_

It was hard to ignore the chance to lecture a youth. She hoped it was about Lexa. The drama would be endless.

**Anya:**  
Hey Clarke. I can  
definitely chat. Text,  
call, or coffee?

**Clarke:**  
Coffee. Texting is  
overrated.

Anya smirked. The girl may be basic, but at least she wasn't clueless.

**Anya:**  
Is this about Lexa?

She hoped it was about Lexa. The girl was like a little sister to her. Twenty-six or not, she was still a kid to Anya. Getting involved in the drama of her love life would be nothing short of entertaining.

**Clarke:**  
Sort of. Mostly,  
I guess. Is that okay?

Anya grinned. It was perfect. Not that Clarke's pain was a reason to be happy, but...

The drama. Oh the drama.

**Anya:**  
Sure. Let's go to  
May's. Lexa never  
goes there.

**Clarke:**  
On campus? Are  
you close by?

**Anya:**  
Haha yes. I can be  
there in half an hour.

Anya had, quite honestly, been lounging around the house in her underwear post-shower. She unwound her hair from the towel wrapped around it and headed upstairs to get ready.

Clarke Griffin, she mused. Pre-med Clarke Griffin. Blonde, not dumb but probably popular. Rich, probably. Didn't she have other friends to talk to about this sort of stuff? Then again, Anya knew Lexa better than anyone. If Clarke had any questions, who better to answer them than Lexa's oldest friend?

Anya didn't try too hard to impress, but subtly she thought that she was trying to intimidate the poor girl. She was dressed in mostly black, with a rather intense amount of eyeliner. Lexa also did this when meeting new people, she realized with a feeling of pride. Little Lexa, on whom she had far too much influence.

She walked out the door before she could get too sentimental. She lived only a few blocks from campus, and the day was nice so the walk was pleasant.

She wondered what kind of drink Clarke would order. _I bet she orders a frappe._

May's was a tiny shop on the side of the student center. The baristas were students, and the whole place was artsy. A bit too artsy for Anya's taste, but the convenience was often too perfect to pass up.

Anya scanned the seating for blonde hair, and finding none, she walked to the counter to place an order. Iced coffee. Black. She usually took it with milk, but she had to make an impression on Clarke.

The girl behind the counter was wearing a floral headband and a considerable amount of facial piercings. Anya wondered if her employer disapproved or encouraged it. Were hipsters more likely to buy from fellow hipsters?

Anya got her coffee and took a seat by a window. She sipped it slowly; she didn't want to be finished before  
Clarke got there. She checked her watch--Clarke was late. Somehow this didn't surprise her.

Anya had just pulled out her phone to text someone--Lexa, Lincoln, literally anyone--when Clarke walked through the door. The girl appeared to be flustered for a few seconds, then appeared to compose herself, quite impressively, in an instant. She strolled to the counter and placed her order, scanning the cafe while she waited. She spotted Anya and gave a small wave. Anya nodded in response.

_Please have gotten a frappe._

Clarke turned, drink in hand, and headed over to Anya's table. To Anya's crushing disappointment, Clarke's drink was not a frappe.

"What did you get?" Anya asked, genuinely curious how she could have made the wrong call. The girl was a cliche.

"Just a coffee with milk," Clarke said. "You?"

Anya shrugged. "Iced. Regular. Boring."

Clarke smiled, and suddenly Anya felt that she understood Lexa's obsession with the girl. Her smile was beautiful.

Anya gave a slight laugh. "You know, I'll be honest with you. I had you pegged wrong. College girl, blonde... I expected a frappe."

Clarke laughed as well. "I drink a lot of caffeine. If I had a frappe every time, I would gain 5000 pounds."

"Ah yes. You're a doctor, so that must be scientific fact," Anya deadpaned, grateful that Clarke seemed to be picking up on her sarcasm. It was winning her major brownie points.

"Not a doctor," Clarke sighed. "And maybe not science, but for sure a personal fact. I don't exactly do sports like you and Lexa."

Anya leaned forward, eager to start talking about Lexa. "So. Speaking of Lexa..."

"Right." Clarke let out a long sigh. "Well first, I'm in a fight with my best friends--my housemates. They're mad because I spend so much time with Lexa lately and I don't communicate with them."

"That's it?"

"That's the short version."

"What's the longer version?"

Clarke shook her head. "I... Haven't been myself for a long time. I went through some shit about three years ago, and it just... I don't know. It stuck with me."

Anya was silent, letting the girl explain herself.

"My friends, I don't know, they treat me differently, and... I don't know, maybe I'm just sick of it, but I've been spending a lot of time with Lexa. She gets me. I feel like myself around her."

"But they're mad?"

"It is my fault. I should be more transparent with them."

"It's not your job to micromanage your friends' feelings."

"They seem to think it is." Clarke sighed. "I mean, growing up I was always sort of the group leader, so I guess now this is just what I do."

The girl sounded so forlorn at this realization that Anya felt pity for her.

But also, she did not particularly want to talk about Clarke's friends.

"Hey Clarke, I'm sorry about your friends, really," she started, hesitantly. "But honestly? I'm of little use to you there. I _do_ know Lexa. If you think it would help to talk about that, I could definitely be useful."

Clarke grinned a little sheepishly. "Could you answer a question?"

"Probably anything you want to know."

"First of all, Lexa is... Wonderful." Clarke's eyes got brighter when she said Lexa's name and Anya found that incredibly endearing. "Just," Clarke laughed lightly. "One of the first few times we went out to the bar, she tried to kiss me." Clarke was blushing. "She was pretty drunk so I didn't know if she was actually into me or if she was just--"

"She's into you," Anya said, bluntly. Clearly, Clarke was blind.

"Really?" Clarke looked like an excited child. It was actually adorable.

"Clarke," Anya paused, thinking of how she could explain Lexa's character without giving away her tragic backstory. It was more difficult than she had thought. "Lexa, she doesn't just... Fall for people. This is not a normal thing for her. If she really is into you, which she is, it must mean that you are quite special."

Clarke smiled, and then that smile was gone. Face fallen, Clarke but her lip worriedly.

"Is that bad?" Anya was prepared to backtrack.

"I... I got really drunk last night and I tried to kiss her." Clarke sounded surprised at herself. "I was angry with my roommates so I called Lexa and went out and got drunk and tried to kiss her. Shit."

"Ouch. What did Lexa do?"

"Left me on my porch with a lecture. She... Wow. Shit." Clarke laughed bitterly. "That was probably painful for her, to walk away like that."

"You threw yourself at her," Anya said. "Lexa is the most honorable person I know. She would not ever take advantage of you. And also," Anya paused, the realization hitting her. "She wants everything to be perfect."

"Our first kiss," Clarke said quietly, half to herself. She shook her head slowly. "I can't believe we're even having this conversation. I'm not usually gay."

Anya sighed. Kids and their identity crises. "Clarke, you can be whatever the hell you want to be."

Clarke stared at Anya as if she had never seen anything quite like her. "You are the first person in a long one to tell me that." She looked as though she might cry. Anya did not want to unpack that baggage, so she simply said:

"Seriously Clarke, if Lexa makes you happy, go for it. She'll be all about it."

"Really?"

"I know Lexa. But you," Anya stared her down. "You have to figure out what you want. Lexa will be _all about it."_

Clarke was silent. Perhaps Anya had gone overboard. The protective, father-with-a-shotgun thing was maybe a bit too much for the blonde. But then Clarke said,

"Thank you, Anya."

Admittedly, not what Anya had been expecting.

"Nobody has encouraged me to go for it. Like, they all just assume that Lexa is someone that I don't want."

"Well, Lexa is my best friend," Anya said. "I want to see her happy, and honestly, she's the happiest I've seen her in a long time since she met you."

Clarke beamed.

"Please, just pick a side. Go one way or the other." Anya left Clarke with a warning. "Lexa doesn't deserve a half-hearted love."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Something happy.... er.
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me! I do have more written of this, but I'm posting it in increments so that I don't run out of material to post while I"m still writing (hopefully that made a little sense).
> 
> Love you all! Peace:)


	21. Chapter 21

Raven and Octavia had arrived home at coincidentally the same time. They had been doing completely different things--Raven had been taking a long walk to stretch her leg, and Octavia had been at Lincoln's house helping him work on his motorcycle. They had both been gone for hours. And in those hours, Clarke had left the house.

The house was uncomfortably silent. Both raven and Octavia could not handle the silence, apparently, because they both started talking at once.

"Damn it--"

"I can't believe we--"

"Seriously why--"

"Urg!!" Octavia finally threw her hands up in frustration. "Like honestly, Raven, Lexa is not that bad."

"I know," Raven sighed, sinking into a couch, her leg shaking.

"We fucked up." Octavia said.

"I know." Raven leaned back and closed her eyes, as if trying to find peace. "But it needed to be said. The weight is off our chests. The air is clear."

Octavia leaned back against the couch, copying raven's position. "I don't feel better."

"Me either."

"But really though," Octavia's voice got gentler. "Have you seen the way they look at each other?"

Truthfully, Raven had never bothered to look. She opened one eye to glare at Octavia.

"What? It's amazing." She laughed lightly. "I'm actually jealous."

"You and Lincoln are disgusting," Raven pointed out. "And I don't see Clarke and Lexa that way. Lexa's just a bad influence."

Octavia shrugged. "Open your eyes next time. At least clarke is happy."

"Pardon me for not being a sap," Raven said. "I don't have the best track record with romance."

"Okay so what if," Octavia said slowly."

"Oh god."

"What if... We make our peace with Clarke, and invite the pair of them over to dinner."

"That's a dumb idea."

"Oh come on, Raven."

"Really though," Raven pressed. "They're not official. It would be incredibly awkward."

"I just feel so bad," Octavia sighed. "We ruined a potential relationship. Clarke could be moving on and we ruined it."

And that, Raven had to admit to herself, she agreed with. She sighed. "Do what you want."

"Raven," Octavia said, her voice gentle again. "Just give Lexa a chance."

And Raven thought that she would likely do that. But there was no way in hell that she would admit that to Octavia.

She sat in her room for the remainder of the afternoon, waiting to hear Clarke come home. She had gone through 6 episodes of 'That 70's show' before she heard the door open downstairs.

She peeked her head around the stairs to investigate. It was Bellamy.

"Oh."

"Sorry? Am I not allowed in?" He said, giving Raven his goofy grin.

Raven rolled her eyes. She wasn't actually angry at him. Actually she was quite happy to see him. But she had a reputation to uphold.

"It didn't seem to be a problem the other night..." Bellamy said a little too loudly.

"What the fuck, Bell, shut up," Raven said, actually angry at him this time.

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. "Octavia's here, isn't she?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah. What do you want?" Raven said.

"I was looking for Clarke, actually."

"And you didn't think to text first?" Raven was quite annoyed at this point. "She's not home."

"On a Sunday afternoon?" Bellamy headed up the stairs. "She's literally always home." He paused. "So wait, if she's not here, then where is she?"

"We don't know." Raven sighed. Not this again. "We aren't exactly speaking right now."

"Awesome," Bellamy said sarcastically. "Well hey, since I'm here..." He ran down the hall and slammed his fist on Octavia's door.

"Bellamy Blake!" Octavia shouted from behind the door. "What the actual fuck?!"

Bellamy sprinted back down the hall to meet Raven again. "She loves me."

"Unlike someone you're taking to..."

"Hey now," Bellamy sidled up to Raven, giving her a lopsided grin. "That's no fair."

"While your sister is my roommate, it's perfectly fair," Raven said cooly.

"Whatever," Bellamy said, unwilling to argue further. "So you really don't know where Clarke is?"

"No."

"Again?" Bellamy laughed. "What's with you guys?"

"It's not funny, Bell," Raven pouted. "We're all in a fight."

"Is it because of that other girl? The one she was with the other night?"

"Lexa? Yeah, it's just..." Raven sighed, frustrated that she was having to explain this again. "She's different around Lexa. I don't know how to react to it."

"Lexa's not one of us," Bellamy said. "I get it. But honestly?" He shook his head in slight disbelief. "A change might be what Clarke needs."

"What do you mean?"

"We've been together, the kids from Arc I mean, for forever. And then after Finn died..." He struggled to come up with words. "It's a big change, and Clarke being guilty and all... I'm just surprised she didn't seek other company sooner."

That thought had not occurred to Raven. At least, not so directly.

"What should I do?"

"Raven," Bellamy said, placing a gentle hand on Raven's shoulder. "You--we all--should do everything we can to accept this girl, or we're going to lose Clarke."

"You really think? You think that Clarke would go that far?"

"I don't know," Bellamy admitted. "But I don't want to find out. Besides, we haven't added to the group in a long time."

"Like I said," came Octavia's muffled voice from her room. "Make peace. Invite them to dinner."

"Wait," Bellamy said. "You can hear us?"

Octavia's door opened and she stuck her head out into the hall. "Yeah," she said, as if it were obvious.

Raven tried to play it cool. Bellamy did too, but failed horribly.

"Um, yeah, so Octavia... What about, um yeah, that dinner idea?" Bellamy stuttered, his face turning red.

Octavia raised one eyebrow with a crooked grin. Raven nearly punched Bellamy. What a dork.

"Honestly, I've been looking for an excuse to cook for people," Octavia said. "And food is always a good peace offering."

Bellamy and Raven were silent. Bellamy likely out of embarrassment and Raven, because her friends' advice was finally sinking in. As much as she hated to admit it, accepting Lexa was the first step to getting Clarke back.

"What if it turns out that Lexa is no good?" Raven said. "What is Clarke gets hurt?"

"Clarke's been hurt before," Bellamy said. "She's not exactly fragile."

Raven and Octavia shared a knowing look.

"If she gets hurt," Octavia reasoned, it'll still be a 'moving on' experience."

"That's true," Bellamy agreed.

Raven sighed. "Okay," she resigned, "you win. I'll play along. But you have to do the inviting."

Octavia nodded. Bellamy sighed. "Call me when you've all made up. This drama is too much for me."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super happy with this chapter, as it seems a little... circular. Still fun to play with the Raven/Bell relationship, and it's always lovely to see the Blake siblings in action. 
> 
> As always, DANKE SCHOEN! to my lovely readers and reviewers. You guys are so awesome-- you leave the most amazing reviews and I love hearing from every single one of you. I'm excited to see your reaction to the upcoming chapters, in which things actually happen xD


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